The Space Between
by Mira Spiegel
Summary: She always knew she and her brother would make headlines...just not this way. Amy Crane goes into the darkest places of Gotham and her twin brother's mind to salvage the man he used to be and become the woman she was meant to be.PostBB, Bruce/OC, Crane/OC
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello readers! This little plot bunny just won't leave me alone so I figured I better start it. My Spiderman story, "Free Fall," started the same way as this one. I really enjoyed writing that story and was extremely pleased at how it turned out. So here I go again…

Batman:

The Space Between

Chapter One: The Call to Arms

She was having that dream again and no matter how hard she tried to wake up she couldn't. The ending was always the same, just as it had been in real life. She was peering out from the slats of the closet, her brother huddled next to her in the dark place that smelled of their mother's perfume and father's cologne. She had a nightmare and her brother heard someone in the house. They ran to the sanctuary of their parent's room only to have it be too late. Their mother shoved them in the closet as their father scrambled for his gun. He was struggling with the safety when the first shot sounded. She finally woke up but the second gunshot still reverberated through her mind as she stared at the dark ceiling.

Amy looked over at the clock to see it was two in the morning. She thought about calling her brother as it was only eleven o'clock in Gotham City. He was going through some research project so he should still be up. She hadn't spoken to him in a few weeks, which was long for them to go without speaking. Maybe calling him wasn't such a bad idea. The last few times she had spoken with him he just didn't sound like himself, like he was hiding something. That was something else that was not common between them.

Turning on the light and sitting on the edge of her bed, she picked up the phone and dialed his cell phone number. It didn't even ring but went straight to his voicemail. That was odd. Hanging up the phone, she went over to the computer and checked her email only to find none from her brother. Her best friend, Lina, however was online and didn't hesitate to instant message her.

_You're up late. Anything wrong?_

_Had a nightmare, _Amy typed back. _Why are you up so late?_

_Coming in from a date. _

There was a long pause and Amy thought of just saying good night and trying to get back to sleep but then Lina sent her an interesting IM.

_Have you seen the news? _

_No, why?_

A link popped up on the screen and Amy clicked on it. The video loaded and it was a news broadcast from Gotham. It seemed to take forever to the load and she chewed on her thumbnail until it was ready. The dark buildings in the background looked so forlorn and some were even on fire. It looked like there was riot in the street where the reporter was doing his broadcast.

"Gotham City almost came to an end tonight. We're still getting details in from the police department but it seems like there were two men responsible for this mass destruction here."

Two pictures showed up on the screen, one was just a black silhouette with a question mark over it. The name underneath said Ra's al Ghul. The other picture stopped her heart. Her brother's picture was staring back at her.

"We are still unsure of who exactly Ra's al Ghul is but the second man responsible for the chaos is Dr. Jonathan Crane. He was working with experimental procedures with the inmates at Arkham Asylum that had something to do with a fear toxin that was then released into the air over Gotham City. The good news that comes out of this mess tonight is Gotham has a hero. They are calling him 'Batman.'"

The video ended but Amy still stared at the screen. Was that all? Was Jon still alive? In custody? Or was he still out there, a fugitive? What would the police do to him when he got caught? If they put him in the Asylum where he treated patients it could be a disaster. But what caused him to go off the deep end like this? Did this al Ghul character pressure him into these experiments? Was he brain washed?

_Did you watch the video? _Lina wrote.

_Yes. Is there any more news? Was he caught? Is he okay?_

_He hasn't called you? _

_No, he hasn't. _Amy rubbed her face in exhaustion and worry. There was only one thing left for her to do and that was to go to Gotham to find Jon herself. Perhaps she could get to him before the authorities did. Maybe she could reach him before he was locked up and she couldn't help him.

_Hey Lina, can you watch my cat for me? _

_I thought you would say that. Best of luck and call me when you find him._

* * *

The two shots that echoed through the alley that night constantly echoed through his mind. Even now, twenty years later, the sound of that pistol going off woke him from a sound sleep more than his alarm clock. Time was supposed to heal all wounds but it hadn't. Time had fine tuned the wound into a purpose, never allowing healing to take place. This was his life now, stopping the gun from going off again and robbing another child of his parents.

Harsh sunlight suddenly filled the expansive master bedroom of the rebuilt Wayne Mansion. As was customary now, he pulled the blankets over his head with a groan. He had left the rebuilding of the mansion to Alfred. The older man had a more emotional connection to the building which meant he had a better recollection of the home. Bruce had yet to find a flaw in the new building.

"Good afternoon, Master Bruce."

"Is it three o'clock already?"

"One, actually, but I thought the news would be interesting to you."

Bruce tugged the blankets down and blinked rapidly. His surroundings came into view once his eyes adjusted to the sun washed room. He briefly wondered how and where Alfred had found all the antiques that decorated the room that looked uncannily like the original master bedroom. The flat panel screen against the wall sprang to life, the local news station already playing.

"Once again, if you missed the press conference from earlier this morning," the slight news reporter was saying, papers in one hand and microphone in the other, "it will be replayed in just a few moments. But as of now there has been no contact made. We will update our viewers as soon as anything happens in this situation. Back to you, Blake."

"Thank you, Anita." A neat trimmed man in a suit and obnoxious tie came on the screen. "Once again, if you missed the press conference that came from police headquarters, here are the highlights."

Bruce's interest in the news report had blocked out everything else in the room, the garish sunlight included. His focus was completely on the nervous woman on the screen. She looked oddly familiar, with prominent cheekbones, ice blue eyes and thick wavy black hair, but he couldn't place her. Then she put on glasses and looked directly into the camera. Despite her obvious nervousness there was no way to hide the uncanny resemblance to Dr. Jonathan Crane.

"Good morning, residents of Gotham," her voice was soft and shook but it still had the same well educated clip to the words. "I am Dr. Amy Crane and I came to Gotham to find my brother, Dr. Jonathan Crane. If anyone knows anything of his whereabouts, please call the police hotline. I am only concerned with his well being and the sooner I can find him, the sooner we can give him the help that he needs. And Jon, if you're watching," she shrugged elegantly, "you know how to contact me. Thank you."

The familiar person of Lieutenant James Gordon stepped to the microphone that Amy Crane had just vacated and reiterated the contact number and thanked the citizens of Gotham for their help. Alfred turned the TV off and gave him that questioning look.

"What?" Bruce asked.

"I would have thought you would jump at the chance of helping the damsel in distress but perhaps I was wrong."

Bruce laughed slightly. "I highly doubt Amy Crane is a damsel in distress, Alfred. Not with a brother like she has."

"Not knowing either sibling personally, I have no opinion of their personalities, however," he handed a glass filled with a greenish liquid to Bruce, "I do know how well people can hide secrets."

Bruce took the glass. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying perhaps there is more to Amy and Jonathon Crane that meets the eye. And it may be in Batman's best interest to make an ally out of Amy."

"Do you know how many criminals are still out there? Capturing Crane isn't going to solve Gotham's crime problem."

"I never said it would, Master Bruce, but to fix the asylum breakout someone needs to be the first one captured. You already have his sister who is looking for him. The newspaper this morning says she came from California which means she has no friends here."

"So what you're saying is Crane is the best starting place?"

"It would appear that way, sir. But then again," Alfred gathered up the tray he brought to the bedroom and gave Bruce that know-it-all smile, "I am just the butler."


	2. Stranger in a Strange City

The Space Between

The Space Between

Chapter Two: Stranger in a Strange City

They warned her not to stay in the Narrows and now Amy knew why. Her logic had been sound at the moment, thinking if her brother were on the run, it would be foolish for him to show himself in normal society, but logic didn't drown out the sounds of poverty and crime outside her window. She had tried shutting the window and went to turn on the AC unit only to have it spit out dust and a wretched odor she rather not know the origins. So she turned off the AC and opened window again, where any crook, thief or worse in the Narrows could gain access to her room by the rickety fire escape. Oddly enough, it didn't exactly frightened her, it just put her on the defensive.

The jet lag tugged at her eyes but concern and worry kept them open. Her night was spent staring at the open window and glancing down at her cell phone. It had been close to twelve hours since the news conference and still he hadn't called her. Despite the police's hopes that he would call their hotline, Amy knew he would completely by pass the authorities and contact her directly. She still hadn't decided whether or not she was going to tell the police when he did. The things that bonded them together transcended laws and moral responsibilities. It was the law that had failed them in the first place.

Something creaked in the ceiling above her and she jumped to her feet. She asked for a room at the upper most floor because it gave access to the roof. Tucking the cell phone into her pocket, she climbed out the window and started up the fire escape. She hadn't taken two steps up the rusted metal when she hit something with enough force to knock her back, sprawled out on the landing outside of her room. A pain shot up her right arm and she realized she had tried to break her fall with her hand. Judging from the throbbing that went from her wrist to her elbow, she either sprained or broke her wrist.

Hissing through her teeth, Amy went to stand up when the shadow came over her. It gave her such a start she kicked her foot in defense only to have it connect with the same type of equally hard surface. The shockwaves of the kick reverberated up her legs as she tried to push herself into the corner of the landing. Her mace was safely inside the hotel room and she didn't bring her gun with her for this trip; too much paperwork to be able to take it on the plane.

"Stop."

Amy was never one to listen to a command even if it came from someone she knew and respected but there was something in the strange, rough voice that made her pause in her hasty retreat. "Why?"

"I came to talk," the voice came again.

She still couldn't make out a form in the darkness. "So far all you've done is knock me down." There was nothing but silence. Amy rolled her eyes, wanting nothing more that to put some ice on her wrist. "So talk already."

There was a loud crack that echoed down the alleyway and an emergency ice pack dropped on the landing next to her. Gingerly, she picked up and laid it on top of the hurting wrist. "Thanks."

"You said you're here looking for brother, Jonathan Crane."

"Is that a question or a statement?" She couldn't be certain but she thought she heard a huff of indignation.

"He hasn't contacted you yet?"

Amy slumped back wedging herself between the railing and the brick wall. "No. So who are you, a cop?"

"I'm not a cop."

"What a minute," something fuzzy was coming into focus in her mind. "You're that vigilante that Lieutenant Gordon was telling me about. The Batman."

"Crane was caught tonight selling his fear toxin to the Russian mob. He's on his way back to Arkham Asylum. I don't think Arkham allows phone calls. It would be in your best interest to turn around and go back to whatever life you left and continue on as though nothing has happened."

Amy let out a sharp laugh. "Spoken like a person who has no siblings." She pushed herself up the wall until she was standing. "You don't understand my brother the way I do so your interpretation of the situation is understandable. If I can just talk to him-"

"It won't be possible. The man he's turned into is not the man you remember."

"How do you know that? You know nothing about me or my brother."

He finally stepped into the dim light from the flickering street lamp and she was thankful the wall was already halfway holding her up. He was huge, having almost a foot on her, and dressed from head to toe in black. The only visible part of his face was his mouth, which set in a tight line and his eyes were just angry glints in the scant light.

"You are Dr. Amy Nell Crane. You have your under grad degree in child psychology, masters and doctorate in abnormal child psychology. You work as a guardian ad lietum for the San Diego area. You and your brother attended the same college for all your education and only separated when he came to Gotham."

She should have been frightened by him, her mind told her that but she couldn't summon up an ounce of fear for the masked man in front her. His rattling off her education and job made her life sound so very hollow, not at all as dangerous and frightening as it had been. He knew what was on public record for her and Jon, but that was all. There was so much more than that to the both of them. It made the desire to find her brother stronger.

"Like I said," she moved towards the window of her room, "You don't know anything about me or my brother."

"I know enough."

Amy sighed wearily, the throbbing getting worse and causing her to break out in a sweat, chilling her in the night air. "If you're not familiar with Freud's depiction of a person's ego, let me tell you. He describes it as an iceberg. What the world sees, what you are conscious of, is just the tip while only the person themselves knows, sometimes, what lies under the surface. Jon is my twin, my other half. We know what lies underneath the face that we show the world because we're connected in a way no one else could possibly understand. So, go off and do whatever a Batman does. If you want to help, you'll pull some bat-strings and get me in to speak with my brother."

"No."

"Then I'll get in myself. So add that to your list of 'What I know about Amy and Jon Crane,' we do not quit and we do not abandon each other." Amy's time spent with hurting children kicked her sympathetic emotions into gear. "Surely even you have someone you feel that way about, don't you? If not, why are doing what you are if not to protect someone you love."

"It's the right thing to do."

"It comes from caring about someone or something."

"It's duty."

"It's love."

He regarded her briefly, started to say something before deciding against it and smoothly allowed himself to be swallowed up into the shadows. Jon and her used to have late night discussions on what was the emotion that drove people to do what they do. Her belief was it all boiled down to love: sacrificial and selfish motivation, both. He always believed it was an innate fear that sometimes even the person themselves didn't understand. She had come to Gotham in hopes of finding and helping him. Surely that was love motivated, wasn't it? Or was she afraid of what would happen to him in that Asylum? Perhaps, they both had been correct in their own way. Maybe love and fear went hand in hand when it came to motivation.

* * *

"Everything go alright, sir?"

Bruce only grunted his repsonse to Alfred, his mind too preoccupied at the moment for a clear response.

"I see," Alfred responded as he looked over the kevlar suit. "No bullet nicks, I take it the night was quiet. The news channels are already reporting that the Batman nabbed the Scarecrow."

And that was what was bothering him. Sitting down at the master computer, he flipped through various newsclips that had been played that day and stopped on the one where Amy Crane had made her plea to the public and her brother. He had been surprised by her and her attitude towards him. Even after she had fallen and hurt her wrist (perhaps Bruce Wayne could run into her tomorrow and find out the outcome of her injury) she remained calm and almost unnaturally cool. He flipped through a couple of other videos and stopped on a not so recent one of Crane's deposition for one of many Falcone thugs.

The blue eyes were the same shade, shape and behind similar glasses but there was a huge difference: Jonathan's were cold, calculating and Amy's were warm with concern. The facial structure was uncannily the same, it was just the looks on their faces that made them appear so very different. Amy looked like a person who would work with children and Jonathan looked like someone who would work with the criminally insane.

"Having doubts about capturing Dr. Crane so quickly?"

Was that what was bothering him? "I didn't really have a choice, Alfred. I wasn't even looking for him tonight."

"Reguardless, you sent someone's brother to a place where she can't reach him now. I am fairly certain that will not sit well with you."

"I saw her tonight."

"Miss Crane?"

Bruce smiled ruefully. "It's Dr. Crane, actually."

"Oh wonderful, another one."

"But yes, I dropped in to see her. I told her to go back home and get on with her life."

"Spoken like a man with no siblings."

Bruce finally tore his gaze away the monitors. "That's exactly what she said."

Alfred gave him that "I told you so" smile of his. "I like her already."

"You would," Bruce answered, turning back to the computer screen. Something was nagging at him, something that refused to be pushed to the back of his mind and forgotten. Thankfully, the answer would come with the morning paper.

* * *

Amy had taken what the hotel desk clerk had called the "Wayne Train" to a much better part of the city. She had called Arkham and they had confirmed her brother was in their custody but that was all. She didn't know his condition, mental or physical. She highly doubted the Batman would have stopped and asked him "And how are you feeling tonight, Dr. Crane?" She had plenty of time to devise a plan on her trip to the upscale part of Gotham though and soon she should have her answer.

When she finally disembarked, it didn't take her two blocks to find what she needed. A BMW dealership, closed down for the night, was directly across the empty street from her. She calmly walked over to the show room where a brand new BMW X-6 was gleaming under the dimmed lights.

"Pretty, ain't it?"

She turned to see a young man in jogging clothes standing next to her. She hadn't even heard him come up to her. The set up couldn't have been more perfect: a witness. She reached into her bag and pulled out a brick she had pried from the wall of the dilapated hotel she was staying in. Thankfully, it was her left wrist that was useless at the moment and she was a right handed person.

"I think I'll take a closer look," she said as sedately as she could despite the nervousness that was building inside of her. With a swift prayer that this would really work, she threw the brick with all her might and was satisfied when the showcase glass shattered into a million pieces. The alarm went off but she acted as if she couldn't hear it as she stepped into the dealership and stared at the car. With the witness-joggers statement, she should find herself on her way to Arkham before rush hour hit the city. She had told the Batman if he wouldn't help her make contact with Jon then she would do it her own way.


	3. The Crane Twins

Author's Note: Hi all! Inspiration has returned for this fan fic and it returned with a couple more plot bunnies with it! I'm really enjoying this story and I hope you are too so stick with it if you would be so kind and please, please, please (yes, I am unashamedly begging here) review. Thank you so much!

The Space Between

Chapter Three: The Crane Twins

Bruce had managed to stay up in time for the morning paper to be delivered. Alfred had handed it to him and all thoughts of getting some sleep quickly left his mind. A picture of Amy Crane was on the front page of the paper with the headline "Insanity Runs in the Family?" above the picture. Apparently, she threw a brick through a car dealership window at two in the morning claiming "she wanted a closer look." When the police arrived she was already sitting behind the wheel with the dealership's keys in the ignition. It came with no surprise that she was quickly taken off to Arkham to be placed in maximum security until she could be further analyzed by the doctors. She had gotten exactly what she wanted: to get closer to her brother.

Bruce had tried to get some sleep but couldn't. His mind kept accusing him of not listening more closely to her. She had basically told him that if he didn't help, she would get to her brother one way or another. She had definitely made good on that promise. He knew she wasn't insane, not in the least. When he had spoken to her she had been lucid, calm and direct. However, Jonathan Crane had always appeared that way as well. Maybe the paper's had it right, insanity was genetic.

Giving up on sleeping, he headed down into the kitchen and was surprised to see Alfred sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of Earl Grey, no doubt, reading a handwritten letter.

"You're up early."

"As are you, Master Bruce."

Bruce poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the old wooden table across from Alfred. "Who's that from?"

"My niece, the one that travels with that violin band."

"Lindsey?"

"Lynnlee, actually. Usually she sends me a postcard but apparently part of the band is breaking up, her boyfriend with it. There's only so much she'll talk to her parent's about but 'Uncle Al' is a whole other matter. The group that is staying together has booked a six week performance here in Gotham."

"Did you tell her she can stay here?"

"Of course not. She'll be staying with Lucius."

"I thought Lucius only had a studio?"

"It's a very nice studio."

"Tell her to stay here. She can have the whole second floor and one of the cars to get in and out of the city. Besides, I've never met any of your relatives so this should be interesting."

"And what of your nocturnal activities, Master Bruce? Lynnlee was and always will be one of the most curious and stubborn people I know."

"Hm," Bruce hid a grin behind the mug, "I wonder where she got the stubborn streak."

"Her father. Anyway," Alfred folded up the letter, "she's made it abundantly clear that she doesn't want to intrude and will most likely find a furnished apartment in the city which is why I'm hoping she'll take up Lucius' offer."

Bruce shrugged. "As long as she knows she's welcome here."

"Of course, Master Bruce. Now, what's troubling your mind?"

Leave it to Alfred to cut right through the façade. "I can't figure this Amy Crane out for the life of me. Why would she get herself put into Arkham? She'll see her brother but as for helping him, she can't do that locked up in a cell."

"Perhaps she thinks she can help him. Or at least protect him."

"From what?"

"The other inmates. He's locked up in the same prison that he ran and terrorized most of the inmates. I'm sure there's quite a few of them who wouldn't mind doing some terrorizing of their own."

Bruce laughed. "She's a short, scrawny woman who looks about fourteen. I would love to see her try to protect her brother from some of those dangerous criminals."

"Well, I took the liberty of pulling some strings and requesting the personal files on the Cranes when I first saw the news conference. You wouldn't believe the lives they've lived. It appears that Amy has done nothing else but protect her brother from bullies."

"Really?"

"I actually spoke to one of the foster mothers, Pearl I believe her name to be. She still lives in Oklahoma. She gave me quite a humorous tale concerning one such incident when they were eleven." Alfred got up from the table and picked up a stack of papers from the counter, still continuing his story. "Pearl said that the neighborhood bully was calling Jonathan names, as was a natural part of the day. She told me, and I quote, 'Amy came out of nowhere and dropped the bully hard. She smacked him so many times it was starting to sound like applause.'" Alfred and Bruce shared a laugh before Alfred turned serious again. "Unfortunately, that was the only humorous story I found in those files. It's like reading a novel on everything that's wrong with the child care system."

Bruce pulled the top sheet of paper towards him and found two six year old kids with black curly hair and bright blue eyes staring up at him. There was no mistake that these kids were Jonathan and Amy Crane. Both of them had swollen, red eyes making the almost transparent blue stand out even more. "What else did you find out about them?"

"They were born here, in Gotham. Their father was a defense lawyer who refused to defend Falcone's predecessor. When the children were both six, Falcone's thugs broke into their house, shot and killed both of their parents."

"They left the children alive," Bruce murmured, more to himself as he remembered that night in alley where we watched his parents being gunned down.

"Their mother had hidden them in the closet," Alfred continued, "saying they weren't home and refused to tell them where they were. The police found them a day later, still in the closet. They had no other relatives who would take them."

"No other relatives?"

Alfred gave him a pointed look. "No other relatives that were willing to raise twin six year olds, no. Once they were put into the system, they never lived in the same place for more than six months, each foster home farther away from Gotham and worse than the one before it. The only one where they seemed remotely happy was with Pearl in a small town the size of Wayne Manor called Kildeere."

Bruce flipped through some of the files and just briefly read over some of the reasons they were changing homes on such a frequent basis. A couple were from financial burdens the foster parents couldn't shoulder, too old for raising kids, health problems but the one that stuck out to him most was a fifteen year old Amy's written account of how she woke up in the middle of the night staring down the barrel of a shotgun. "No wonder Crane is the way he is. His entire childhood was completely out of his control. In a strange way, his actions against the city make some sense."

Alfred leaned back in his chair. "It also makes Amy's strong desire to get to her brother understandable as well. They went through everything together and that formed a bond closer than the average sibling. They were each other's stability and in a world gone mad, that stability means everything."

Still staring at the dark history of the Crane siblings, Bruce asked "Did Pearl happen to mention what the bully was calling Crane?"

"She did," Alfred smiled without humor. "Scarecrow."

* * *

Dr. Jonathan Crane was running out of ways to keep himself awake. There was only so many things he could do with a straightjacket on, which was the point of the jacket. The only things he could move were his legs and head. Tapping his toe on the floor and lightly banging his head against the wall always fell into a rhythm that started to put him to sleep and with sleep came the nightmares.

He had spent the better part of his time of his unlawful release trying to fine tune an antidote for the fear toxin. He had already made one and injected himself with it but apparently it wasn't strong enough for the concentrated dose the Batman hit him with that night. He had suffered the terrifying delusions for a few hours before they faded to the background of his mind and he could control them. But when his mind was unguarded, say REM sleep, the nightmares came back with unrelenting terror. Most of the time when he did manage to fall asleep, it was his own screaming that woke him. It was a humiliating place to be considering where he had fallen from.

Just as he was trying to think of another way to keep his mind active, someone wrapped on the observation window as they passed. With dull interest, he focused on the window, that he was used to always being on the other side of, when a couple guards and orderlies walked past, a new patient in tow. At first he thought the sedatives were playing tricks on him but when his sister turned to look in the room, the emotions that played out on her face were anything but a trick. All it took was that one second of seeing her and he could tell every emotion that she was feeling: sadness, empathy, anger and the slightest twinge of fear.

His mind raced as to why, of all places, she would be here. He had puposefully broken all contact with her with he accepted al Ghul's offer. There was only one thing that struck honest fear into him and that was losing his sister. As much as it pained him to ignore the phone calls and emails and threats of her coming out to Gotham to see him, he didn't want al Ghul to have that kind of leverage over him. Well, he should have known that she would have found a way to get to him. She always did.

Suddenly, he found himself wide awake, sleep the fartherest thought in his mind. He had to get to her, talk to her and explain the series of events that unfolded. He had to get her out of here.

* * *

Amy had counted the doors the seperated her from her brother. There were five. She supposed they didn't want her to talk to him, despite her telling Lieutenant Gordon her plan of entering the facility. He told her she would have two days before he told the head pyschiatrist that it was a ruse and yank her back out into civilization. As far as Arkham was concerned, she was crazy. She had begged and pleaded with anyone who looked at her to see her brother but the orderlies and guards locked the door to her cell and departed laughing racously as they did so.

Figuring there was nothing to do but wait for her evaluation tomorrow and hope that Gordon reached someone by now, she curled up on the little cot in the room and tried to fall asleep but the image of Jon in the straight jacket refused to be pushed out of her mental sight. Her eyes welled with tears as she thought back to their childhood and how the bullies would restain him to give him their sound beatings. They always seemed to forget about her, most likely thinking a girl wouldn't fight back. She had brought more than her fair share of bullies to their knees with her surprise tactics. But they may as well have put a straight jacket on her now for she had no way of fighting this battle for Jon now. Giving into the stupidity of her plan and thinking the Batman may have been right about Jon not being the same person anymore, Amy did something she hadn't done for many years and cried herself to sleep.


	4. Reunion

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! Whoo! It makes me happy and it makes the little plot bunnies happy too. So here's the next chapter and it was a monster to write!

The Space Between

Chapter Four: Reunion

Amy woke up when someone unlocked her cell door and it took her a minute to realize where she was. With a groan, she sat up and ran her fingers through her tousled hair, having them catch on a couple knots. She hoped whoever was standing there had a brush and some coffee.

"Good morning, Ms. Crane."

"It's Dr. Crane, actually." She blinked a few times and the psychiatrist came into view. He was an older man, tall and thin with salt and pepper colored hair. His tag showed him to be Dr. Alan Caldwell.

"Ah, yes, my apologies, Dr. Crane. However, since we now have two Dr. Crane's here, perhaps you wouldn't mind if I refer to you as Miss?"

Amy ducked her head and dismissively waved her hand as the image of Jon in the straight jacket rose in her mind's eye again. "That's fine."

"Wonderful," he said, scribbling something down on his notepad. "I am Dr. Caldwell and I'll be your therapist," he looked up at her with a sharp stare, "for your short stay with us."

_Ah, good,_ Amy thought to herself, _Gordon already told them. _

"If you would be so kind to follow me," Dr. Caldwell said, holding the cell door open for her.

Amy nodded and stood up, stretching her back muscles from a rough night's sleep on the cot. "Where are we going?"

"For your, uh, evaluation."

She supposed they had to keep up appearances though there were no guards or orderlies to escort her. She silently counted the doors as she followed the doctor and tried to peek in the fifth one but didn't see anyone in it. She stopped dead and peered in unabashedly. The room was completely empty.

"Ms. Crane-"

"Where's my brother?"

"Another time, perhaps."

Amy felt the familiar flow of anger start to rise. This Caldwell guy knew why she was there. "No, now. Where is he?"

"If you would just follow me, please."

Amy thought about being mutinous but they were stretching the rules for her here. Maybe if she followed their regime they would allow her some time with Jon. Swallowing a huff of indignation, she left the door and continued to follow the doctor. They passed through more sterile looking hallways and Amy was beginning to understand just what may have pushed her brother over the edge. The building itself played mind games with you.

"Here we are," Dr. Caldwell said, once more holding the door open for her. Amy walked into what looked like an interrogation room, complete with two-way mirror, table and chairs. But there was a person already seated one of the two chairs. Amy choked back a sob at finally seeing her brother, thankfully without the straight jacket this time. He made a move to stand up but the clang of metal on metal echoed through the room and he fell back into the hard plastic chair with an apologetic look.

"Are the handcuffs necessary?" Amy pleaded.

Dr. Caldwell looked rueful. "If we take off the handcuffs you'll have to be observed," he pointed at the mirror.

"That's alright," Jon spoke up. "I don't mind them."

Caldwell gave Amy a brief nod before closing the door. Now that Amy was facing her brother one on one she wasn't sure if she was going to hug him, weeping with joy or throttle him senseless for getting into a mess like this.

"Hello, Amy. You look well." His tone made it sound as if they were meeting for lunch, not both inmates in an insane asylum.

So that was it…she would throttle him. "What have you done?"

His mouth opened but she started to advance and cut him off before any words came out.

"I'm so happy they left those cuffs on you because it's going to make beating some sense back into you easier on me." She took sadistic pleasure in seeing his eyes widen in surprise and then to start looking for some sort of escape. However, the pleasure faded quickly when she got closer to him and the surprise quickly turned to panic. Instinctively, Amy held her hands up in a placating movement and stopped where she was. She had vented her anger and frustration at him before but he had never responded with anything but cool sarcasm. The frantic look in his eyes and trembling in the chair scared her more than anything else in this whole ordeal.

"Jon, I'm sorry. It's just…well…" she sighed and took a deep breath, "you scared the hell out of me. Not returning my phone calls or emails. I didn't know what happened to you and I got really worried. Then all of sudden you show up on National News and they're reporting that you attacked a city with some toxic gas."

The panic in his eyes slowly dissipated and the shaking stopped. There was no humor in his face or body language. He looked sadly and oddly defeated.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Amy stood there and waited for an explanation. After a few seconds it was obvious that was all Jon was going to say. "That's it? I'm sorry? I came all the way across the country, held a news conference," she held up her bandaged wrist, "ran into the Batman-"

"You saw him?"

The look of terror had taken over his face again at the mention of the Batman. If she was going to figure out what happened, she would have to find a more gentle way to get it out him. Swallowing down tears and pride both, she slowly approached him and knelt down on the concrete floor.

"Jon?"

His eyes turned back to her and quickly came back into focus. "Amy? When did you get here?" Before she could respond, he closed his hazy eyes and a look of serious concentration came across his face. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and they were clear, the way she had always remembered them being. "I'm sorry. It's a long story."

"We've got plenty of time."

He shook his head and lowered his voice to a whisper. "No, I'm afraid we don't." With a quick glance over to the mirror, he said a little louder, "How about a hug?"

Playing along with his game, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. It was the first thing that felt familiar to her since she had stepped on the plane in California. She could almost convince herself things were normal again. That is until Jon whispered in her ear.

"I know how we can get out of here."

"No, Jon-"

"You don't know what they'll do to you."

"I'm only here-" she tried to pull back but even with handcuffs his grip was too strong for her to break. She didn't remember him being quite that strong.

"I ran this Asylum in a way many people frowned upon. They will not hesitate to exact their pound of flesh from me. That I could deal with but not with watching you pay for my sins. Just be ready."

When he finally did release her, the door to the room opened and Dr. Caldwell stepped inside. "I hope you two had enough time to catch up."

"We did, thank you, Dr. Caldwell," Jon answered in his smooth, clipped voice.

"Very well," Caldwell took Amy's elbow, "Ms. Crane, I will see you back your room. Breakfast should be there waiting for you."

Amy found she couldn't break eye contact with her brother. His words, attitude and quick changing mood swings left the hair standing up on the back of her neck. The Batman had been right…this wasn't her brother anymore. She had heard of "twin telepathy" before but never believed it until this moment. The message in Jon's eyes was perfectly clear: _Be ready._ But ready for what?

* * *

Jonathan waited patiently under the careful watch of two large guards. He fought the impulse to talk to them, play on what he knew to be their fears. They were looking at him as if they were expecting it anyway so what would it hurt? But no, he had to get Amy out of this place as quickly as possible. He had turned a blind eye to many an unsavory incident feeling as if he had no ground to stand on considering what he was doing himself with the toxin experiments. Instead, he plastered on a sedate smile, folded his handcuffed hands and waited for Caldwell, the fool, to show up again.

He didn't have to wait too terribly long. Caldwell came back in, dismissed the guards and shut the door. "Your sister seemed to be in a state of shock as I was taking her back to her cell. Care to discuss what you two talked about?"

Jonathan lifted his shoulders slightly. "There wasn't much time to explain things to her. I imagine it was quite a shock for her to be here and to see me like…" he held up his still shackled hands, "this."

Caldwell looked down at his clipboard, most likely to see if Jonathan had been given any sedatives. The truth of the matter was yes, they had been given to him but he hadn't taken them. They should have known he was all too familiar with the tricks of the trade, so to speak. Most all of the sedatives that they gave him were most likely in the public sewer system. The idiocy floored him but he was hoping it would work in his advantage now.

"Well," Caldwell finally spoke up, "I suppose the handcuffs are a little overkill for today's sessions. Especially now that you have something to work towards."

Oh, if he only knew but Jonathan forced a grateful smile on his face and held his breath as his left hand was released followed by the right. Waiting until the good ole doctor turned his back to him, Jonathan snapped the right handcuff back on and jumped up. Making a loop out of the chain that connected the cuffs, he slipped it over the doctor's head and pulled it tight. By the time the guards had come through the door, Jonathan had the cuff-noose in his right hand and a gold plated fountain pen in the left, pressed into the neck of the doctor.

"Crane," Caldwell rasped the warning.

"Okay," he responded, "here's how we're going to do this."

* * *

Amy knew that when the guards came back to her cell, it was due to whatever Jon had concocted in his deluded mind. The guard looked slightly shaken as he motioned her out of the cell and when she exited, she realized why. Jon had Caldwell in a metal noose with a fountain pen practically jammed in the guy's neck. A small bead of blood had trailed down the Doctor's neck.

"Give her your keys, Caldwell."

"There's no way to get out Crane, you know that."

"Jon-"

"Take his keys, Amy."

She was unaccustomed to hearing orders come from him but the wild look on his face and the cold calmness in his eyes disturbed her too much to argue at the moment. She unclipped the key ring from the doctor's belt and Jon motioned his head to the guards standing behind her.

"Get in the room," he ordered.

Amy was surprised to see both men file into her cell.

"Lock it!" Jon shouted and Amy jumped forward and twisted the enormous deadbolt into place. Jon chuckled darkly, "You have to love a hostage situation."

"Jon, this is crazy," Amy pleaded with him but he only regarded her with those cold eyes.

"Well, I suppose that makes this the perfect place for it to happen. Let's get out here."

Amy followed him down the hallway as he pushed Caldwell in front of them, who was still trying to reason with her brother.

"The entire place will be in lock down, Crane. You know that."

"What you don't know is I programmed a master code into the system that was never changed after I was no longer under employment."

It seemed to take forever for them to get towards the front of the building but finally the four gate system to get to the lobby came into view. Jon turned his head slightly back in her direction.

"I'll go first," he said, "once they see I have a hostage, you can go up and unlock the doors, alright? We shouldn't need the master code so don't worry about that."

Amy felt a knot twist in her stomach. She wanted to say, no, this is not alright but couldn't afford to at the moment. She wasn't sure what Jon was capable of now and she didn't want Caldwell to suffer if she failed to obey Jon's orders. She choked out a "yeah" as they neared the first gate. She waited for Jon's "alright" before moving forward and unlocking the first gate with shaking hands. The process was repeated for the next two gates and when they reached the last gate that stood between them and the outside world, Amy hesitated.

"Amy, the gate."

"Let Caldwell go, Jon."

He looked at her with surprise but seemed to think about it for a second before he nodded. "Fine but break the key off in the lock."

Amy breathed a sigh of relief that was almost as loud as Caldwell's. Jon unloosed the handcuff chain from Caldwell's neck but kept the pen against his throat. She had the gate unlocked and open by the time Jon turned and slipped out. Both of them slammed the gate shut and Amy reached through the bars and did exactly what Jon told her to do and broke the key off in the lock. Before she could turn towards the door, gunshots rang out in the lobby.

Instinctively, she dropped and curled into a ball next to the gate thinking the guards had blocked the entrance to the Asylum. But her brother yanked her up from the floor and she saw it was him with the gun. He must have lifted it from one of the guards that were now occupying her cell. Everyone gave them a wide berth, including the guards, as they barreled through the front door and out into the harsh sunlight.

It took everything she had in her to keep up with her brother as he sprinted across the main yard and ducked into a back alley. They were still on the Asylum grounds and she wondered if he was so crazy now that he didn't realize that. But when he stopped, it was to lift a large piece of metal to reveal a metal ladder that led down into the ground. Amy didn't even ask but started down the ladder. When she reached the bottom she saw they were in some sort of water line that led into the Asylum.

"This way," he said after the metal cover was placed back over the hole. She followed him silently through the dark, wet tunnels all the while feeling an odd sense of numbness. She didn't know this person, with his flippant attitude towards hurting someone and sure footedness through the underground labyrinth of pipes that ran under the Narrows. This was not the brother that left her in California, all smiles and full of excitement about going to Gotham City to do some societal clean up.

After an hour of walking through water pipes, Amy finally couldn't keep quiet anymore. "Where are we going, Jon?"

He stopped under the light that filtered down from a man hole and stared up through it. "We're going to have to wait until night to leave here."

"Where's here?"

He finally turned to look at her. "Where I used to live. I need a few things."

"For what?"

A strange smile played over his face and Amy couldn't tell if it was due to the strange sunlight filtered down through the man hole or if her brother's face had changed as well. "What else," he said, "revenge." He said the last word with such emotion it caused her to shiver.

Amy tried to look horrified but her mind was refusing to process anything. "Jon…"

The strange look that had been on his face the entire escape from the Asylum slowly faded. His face seemed to relax and his eyes lost their fevered look, cooled and finally warmed again. Amy felt some of the coldness that had gripped her heart melt somewhat as the familiar face of her twin finally became recognizable again. Before she could say or do anything, he had her in a crushing hug.

"It's so good to see you again, Amy."

She tried to return the hug but the handcuff that was still around his right wrist dug into her neck and she knew she couldn't return his sentiment. Not yet, at least. "Jon, you have some explaining to do."

He sighed wearily and released her. "You're right." He looked up through the grate one more time. "Judging from the light, we have enough time now for explanations."


	5. The Safe House

* * *

Author's Note: A huge thanks to my reviewers! It means so much and it gives me inspiration when it may be lacking at times. I hope you're enjoying the story and please…keep the reviews coming!

The Space Between

Chapter Five: The Safe House

Amy wandered around the two bedroom apartment that her brother had called home here in Gotham. The police were everywhere around it by the time night fell but as the night wore on, more and more left. Finally, when it just down to two, they waited for the one go on a coffee run and, as luck would have it, the second dozed off. They climbed up the fire escape, which was in much better condition than her hotel's, and entered through a window that Jon never locked. They had traded their orange jumpsuits for street clothes. Jon was almost invisible in his dark jeans, t-shirt and sweater. He moved noiselessly through the shadowy apartment, grabbing different things and throwing them into a duffle bag. She couldn't be certain but she thought he just threw a burlap sack into the bag. Strange.

Meanwhile, every place she stepped the floorboards creaked. She was surprised Jon hadn't told her sit on the couch and stay there. She didn't have any of her stuff there, of course, so she was forced to wear a pair of Jon's khaki's with one of his belts cinched as tight as it would go, and a similar type dark colored t-shirt and sweater. She had given up her hospital slippers for a pair of flip-flops she had dug out of the back of Jon's closet. She just hoped if she had to run, it wouldn't be that far.

She tried to find interesting things in the apartment to take her mind off of Jon's "explanation" as to what happened during his stay in Gotham. The conspiracy, mob connections and experimentation of asylum inmates just seemed so far removed from the brother that she had grown up with. He wouldn't even let her kill bugs when they were kids. However, she was a psychologist that dealt with troubled children and their childhood had been a gothic novel. The only problem now was she couldn't psycho-analyze him. He would know straight off what she was doing and that would make him angry and withdrawal more. She needed time to think, process everything that had happened and what was the best course of action to take. That and she felt as if her emotional nerves were rubbed raw.

"I've got everything," he whispered across the room.

"Where are we going?"

"I know a person."

"That doesn't make me feel better, Jon."

He sighed dramatically and she could hear him place the duffle bag on the floor before coming to her side of the room. "We need a safe house, sleep and time. I know a guy who owns an apartment building with furnished apartments. I got his brother out of some jail time and he owes me a favor. He has a fully furnished three bedroom apartment with a stocked kitchen." He held up a cell phone. "He's expecting us tonight."

"Where is the place?"

"Downtown Gotham."

Amy rubbed her forehead. "We're not even getting out of the city?"

She could make out his smile even in the dark. "Where better to hide than out in the open?"

Amy could think of a hundred better places to hide but she kept her peace. Maybe this "safe house" really would be safe for them and give her enough time to come up with a plan on getting her brother back to where he used to be.

* * *

The sun was just coming up when Jon and Amy stepped into their new "home." Mark hadn't let him down: the orange and pink light gleamed off of the hardwood floors, leather couch and chairs. There was even built in bookcases along one wall. The kitchen was large and just as Terry said, stocked. That should make Amy happy as long as her passion for cooking hadn't dissipated over the past year and half.

"Like I said, Dr. Crane," Mark said, handing him the keys to the place, "only the best for you."

Jon smiled tiredly. "Thank you, Mark. It is much appreciated."

Mark then turned to Amy, who had her arms crossed and was practically shoved in the corner of the entrance. "I wasn't sure what size clothes you wore but my wife gave me some to give to you. They're already hanging up in the closet along with some shoes."

"Thank you, Mark," Amy responded and quickly ducked her head, rubbing her eyes. Jon knew that was her trick of hiding the fact that she was crying.

"I'll just tell you a little about your neighbors and then I'll be gone," Mark was saying. "The guy next door is hardly ever home, spends a lot of time with his girlfriend. The apartment across from him is empty and the one across from you guys is being taken by some English girl who's only going to be here for a few weeks. She's some sort of musician. I'll have your new driver's license and credit cards later on this week if that's okay?"

Jon nodded. "That's fine."

Mark gave them a brief smile before heading out the door. Jon watched Amy very closely as soon as Mark shut the door. She was still propped up in the corner, hands covering her face. Jon dropped his bag on the high polished floor and went back to door, locking the handle, deadbolt and chain.

"Amy?" When he checked the corner where she was, he found it was empty but then he looked down and found her on the floor. She had crumpled into a fetal position, silent sobs causing her to shudder uncontrollably. He didn't really know what to do for her as he knelt down next to her. Her face was turned into the floor, her shoulder length black hair covering it from his view.

Out of the two of them, Amy was always the emotional one. Never afraid to cry or show empathy, he found himself comforting her just as often as she found herself defending him. That was how they worked: Amy the fighter, Jon the comforter. Though he hadn't been much of one in the last year and half. He had originally gone into psychiatry in an effort to ease people's pain. The Scarecrow, his alter-ego, had robbed him of all sympathy and willingness to comfort. Instead, he relished seeing their fear of him. Finally after decades of depending on his sister to protect him, he could now protect himself.

Jon shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. His sister was having an emotional breakdown with everything that he had put her through and he was struggling, for the first time in his life, to comfort her. The Scarecrow may have taken away his want to bring people peace but he refused to allow the Fear Monger to rob him of his relationship with Amy. Reaching down, he pulled Amy up into a sitting position and she quickly grabbed a hold of his sweater and burying her face into the material. She was mumbling incoherent things into the fabric and he just let her cry. He tried to soothe her by rubbing circles on her back, it had worked before when boyfriends broke up with her or a favorite pet had died. Apparently it was doing the trick as her sobs turned to sniffles and finally a slow steady breathing. By that time, the repetitive motion had soothed Jon's nerves and he let his head fall back against the wall and fell asleep himself.

* * *

Lynnlee looked around the apartment that she had rented for the next few weeks. It was nice, much nicer than some of the other places she had to call temporary homes. The floorboards had been refinished recently, the furniture looked brand new and the kitchen was larger than any one she had seen in a two bedroom apartment. The ceilings were cathedral and that was her favorite aspect of the place. For some reason, nothing sounded better than a violin played in a room with high ceilings.

"Is it to your liking, Ms. Grayson?"

"Oh yes," she answered the landlord. "It's beyond my expectations."

He grinned proudly and brushed some blonde hair out of his eyes. He was very young to own and run his own apartment building but Mark seemed to do it with an ease that could only be from a raw talent for his job. She could understand that being twenty-five and in a punk-violin band.

"This is a fairly quiet floor," Mark was telling her. "There's no one next to you, the guy diagonal from you is hardly home. Now," he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "the couple across the hall are siblings and they really like to keep to themselves so don't be offended or alarmed if you don't see them that often."

Lynnlee nodded. "Fair enough. Do you think they will be bothered by my practice?"

Mark shook his head. "No, they're both cool. They'll probably like it." He chuckled, "They're the intellectual type. Well, I will let you get settled in, if there's anything you need or have a question about just give me a call."

"Wonderful," Lynnlee shook his hand and closed the door after him, locking it just to be safe. It was only mid-morning, the bright sunlight shining through the large windows and making the space just glow. She only had a suitcase and small duffle bag so it could wait to be unpacked. She pulled out her cell phone and sat down on the overstuffed couch that faced the sliding glass doors out onto her balcony. After admiring the view for a few minutes, she flipped open her phone and hit the speed dial. Punctual as ever, on the second ring he picked up.

"Good Morning."

Lynnlee couldn't suppress the huge smile that broke out on her face. "Hullo, Uncle Al."

"Lynnlee, are you in the city now?"

"Yes, I am. I just got into my new place and am settling in. I gave you the address, didn't I?"

There some rustling in the background. "I have it right here. Perhaps you wouldn't mind your old Uncle stopping in for lunch?"

"Of course not."

"Can I come too?"

Lynnlee rolled her eyes and laughed. Only Bruce…"Tell _Mr. Wayne _he is welcome too."

"Of course. Is one o'clock alright?"

"Perfect."

"We will see you then."

"I look forward to it, Uncle Al."

Lynnlee closed the phone stared out the window for a few more minutes, just admiring the sky scrapers and bustle of the city. There really was nothing like living in the heart of it all. She decided she could put her suitcase and bag in the closet for now and be able to get in a few hours practice before her Uncle and Bruce showed up for lunch. But as she went back to the front door to pick up her things, a strange sound stopped her. Not knowing what it could be, she went over to the front door and pressed her ear against it. There was no mistaking it this time: someone was screaming.


	6. Sound of Madness

**The Space Between**

**Chapter Six: The Sound of Madness**

He was driving somewhere but couldn't remember where. His sister was sitting stone faced in the passenger seat but just like their destination, the cause eluded him. Despite not knowing where they were going, Jonathan kept driving, a gnawing fear eating at his stomach.

"Amy?"

She said nothing, did nothing, but merely stared straight ahead out into the dark night.

"Amy, what's wrong?"

She didn't even have time to respond as the ceiling of the car imploded down on them. Jonathan instinctively slammed on the brakes and felt the car, or what was left of it, skid to a halt. Whatever had landed on the roof had effectively separated him from his sister. Kicking at the driver's side door, he finally managed to get it open. That little bit of fear had grown massively into complete panic, which was something he wasn't necessarily accustomed to feeling. Using the car to keep him upright, he managed to get to the passenger side. The panic increased to the point of making him feeling numb. Amy had fallen forward, her head resting on the blood covered dashboard, her eyes wide open and empty.

Fear enveloped him again and he laid both palms flat against the glass window of the car. He let his head fall forward and hit the window with a dull thud. What was he going to do without his genetic carbon copy, the only person in the world who understood him better than he understood himself? He was alone, truly and utterly alone. Something moved behind him and sheer curiosity caused him to turn. No sooner did he do that then a vice like grip wrapped around his throat and held him against the car.

Clawing ineffectually at the arm, he found himself eye to eye with the Batman once more. Somewhere in the back of his mind he put two and two together and realized it was the Batman that had landed on the top of the car.

"What did you do, Crane?"

What did_ he_ do? It was the vigilante that dropped on the car. It was his fault Amy was dead. Anger coursed with the fear and he continued to fight back but the Batman only tightened his grip on Jonathan's throat. The more he struggled, the more air he lost. He tried one last desperate attempt to draw a little air back into his lungs and tried to scream.

* * *

Amy woke up a few hours ago and found herself sprawled out across her brother's lap. Her eyes felt grainy and itchy, the way they always felt after she had cried herself to sleep. Exhaustion still pulled at her mind and body but she wouldn't get rest on the floor, using her bony brother as a pillow. God love him, they were pushing thirty and he was still the same weight he had been in high school. Despite his lack of bulk she knew she couldn't carry him even as far as the couch. She wandered to the master bedroom and pulled a pillow off the bed and grabbed the comforter as well before going back to the entrance of the apartment. Putting the pillow down on the hardwood floor, she gently nudged Jon down the wall until his head landed squarely on the pillow. He didn't even flinch even when she removed his glasses and draped the comforter over him.

The gravity of the situation hit her full force again and Amy knew she wouldn't be able to sleep now. With Jon sound asleep, this was probably going to be her only chance to try to piece together what had happened to him. Grabbing the duffle bag he had set down in the living room, she headed back to the master bedroom and shut the door. She went to open the bag when the sense of doing something wrong came over her. In her entire life there had never been any secrets between them. The right of privacy was non-existent, until now.

Pushing that thought out of her mind, Amy unzipped the top and flipped it back. Nothing out of the ordinary jumped out at her, just clothing and books from the looks of it. Digging further into the bag, her fingers brushed against something metallic. Pushing aside the clothes, she found four silver canisters packed between the clothes. Pulling one out and looking at it only peaked her curiosity more. There was no writing on them, no warnings about keeping them away from open flame or what they could contain. Something in the back of her mind told her she should know what this was but she couldn't quite remember what it was.

Setting the canisters aside, she continued rummaging through the bag and found something else. She grabbed a hold of the rough burlap material and pulled it out. So she had seen right last night, he had put a burlap sack in the bag. It took her a few minutes of holding it up before it kind of resembled a mask, with two holes for eyes and a crudely stitched, off kilter mouth. To add to the creepiness of the mask, a rope hung around the neck like a noose. When she looked inside the mask, there was what looked like gas mask and suddenly everything slammed into focus.

The metal canisters…the mask…everything the news and papers had reported was correct. Jon really was the Scarecrow, he tried to gas the entire city of Gotham with some sort of fear toxin. She was holding the evidence in her shaking hands. Not sure what to do or where to hide the items, she shoved them back into the bag and dropped the bag into the closet, slamming the door shut. The revelation didn't leave her disturbed that much…she had seen the news reports and somewhere in her subconscious she knew they were true. What troubled her to no end was what had set him off? What circumstances had he faced in Gotham that pushed him over the edge like this? A scream pierced the air, effectively cutting off her train of chaotic thoughts.

When she opened the door to the bedroom, she could see Jon clawing at the walls in the foyer of the apartment, screaming unintelligible words. It was late morning which meant people might be around and hear the commotion. Not knowing what else to do, she sprinted down the hall and grabbed a hold of his shirt, giving him a hard shake.

"Jon!" She shouted in his face. "Wake up! Jon!"

His eyes were wide open but glazed over in terror at things only he could see. Amy kept shaking him and within a few seconds, his eyes focused and the fear slowly diminished from them, being replaced with a weary relief. "You're alright?"

Amy nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. Are you?"

He sat cross legged on the floor and slumped against the wall, covering his face with his hands. "Nightmare…it was just a nightmare."

Amy laid a hand on his arm but before she could say anything to comfort him, a sound knock on the door startled both of them.

* * *

By the time Lynnlee had decided to knock on the door across the hall from her, the screaming she had heard stopped. She wondered if she should just turn around and mind her own business but concern for her fellow man won out and she knocked on the wooden door with enough force it left her knuckles stinging. She could hear movement on the other side of the door but a woman's voice called out "Be there in a minute." A few more seconds passed and Lynnlee heard the deadbolt being slid back and the door being unlocked.

A blue eye peered out over the chain that was still on the door. "Yes?"

Lynnlee smiled as widely as she could. "I thought I heard some noise and just wanted to the make sure everything was alright."

"Everything's fine, thank you."

Lynnlee was struck with the tone of voice that suggested everything was far from fine. The eye that was staring at her had dark circles under it and the woman's skin looked completely white. "Well, I just thought I would check. Be a good neighbor and all that."

The woman made a "hm" sound before starting to shut the door.

"I'm Lynnlee, by the way."

The woman turned away from the door, looking over her shoulder most likely. The door snapped shut and Lynnlee heard the chain being moved before the door opened again, wider this time. The woman on the other side was shorter than Lynnlee herself, but not by much. Her long dark hair was a mess of wavy curls and both blue eyes sported dark circles on her washed out face. Tiredly, she extended a slim hand. "Amy."

Lynnlee gave the hand a decent shake. "You look like you could use a good cup of tea."

Amy rolled her eyes and the corners of her mouth turned up but she remained silent.

"Why don't you come over and have one with me?"

Amy opened her mouth to say something and glanced back over her shoulder. "I don't know-"

"Go ahead," a man's tired voice came from near the back of the apartment. "It's fine."

Amy worried her lip for a moment before shrugging slightly and closing the door behind her. "Tea sounds good."

Lynnlee crossed back to her apartment and left the door open for Amy to follow. She had brought tea with her from England, something she always did for her uncle whenever she was able to. He constantly complained about what passed for tea in the States. She turned the stove on and set the kettle on the burner before heading back to the living room. Amy was standing there, staring at the violin case.

"Do you play?"

Amy's tired eyes shifted their gaze from the case to Lynnlee with great effort. "The violin? No, I can play the piano but not very well. My brother is the pianist who can play like Mozart."

Lynnlee grabbed her suitcase and opened the front compartment and pulled out the tin of tea. "Did you just move in?"

"Yes. You?"

"Just this morning," Lynnlee went back into the kitchen and started opening cabinets to find mugs. "I like getting to know the neighbors not matter how long I'll be staying in a place. I don't know about you but I'm firm believer that people are placed in your path for a reason."

Amy nodded her head but said nothing.

"So, the guy who told you to come on over here, is that your brother?"

Amy stared at her for a few seconds, her bright blue eyes scanning Lynnlee's face for something, she didn't know. Apparently she found what she was looking for, or not depending on what it was, before she sank down at the small table with her head in her hands. "I'm sorry. Yes, it was my brother. You'll have to excuse us though-"

"Oh, no worries. Mark told me that you two like your privacy and I respect that. I only came knocking because I thought I heard screaming."

"You did."

Lynnlee set the steaming mug of tea down in front of Amy as she stared blankly at the wall in front of her. "Your brother?"

Amy sighed wearily, propping up her head with one hand and wrapping the other around the mug. "He had a nightmare. He's, uh, not well at the moment."

Lynnlee sat down next to her at the table, a feeling of sympathy coming over her. The break up of her five year relationship with Brian, the lead violinist of the band had left a gaping hole in her heart and emotions. Her mother always told her the best way to forget your pain is to help another person overcome theirs. "Tell you what, whenever you need a break from taking care of your brother, you just come right over here. We'll have tea, do some girl talk and you can recharge your batteries so to speak. If you need, I'll even sit with him to give you a reprieve."

Amy smiled ruefully. "That's very kind of you but just wait till you watch the news or read the newspaper. You'll change that tune very quickly. We're not people you want to get involved with."

"Lucky for you I don't watch news or read newspapers. I've traveled the world three times over and nothing works better than instinct. And my instinct tells me you need a rest."

Amy didn't say anything but merely stared transfixed into her mug. When a knock on the door came, the poor woman jumped halfway out of her chair at the sound. Lynnlee put a hand on Amy's shoulder, pushing her back down into the chair.

"That'll be my Uncle Al and his boss. They said they would stop by for lunch," Lynnlee looked at the clock it was one o'clock on the dot.

"I don't want to intrude." The panicked look came back into Amy's face.

"Nonsense," Lynnlee motioned for her to sit back down at the table as she opened the door. Hugging her uncle and Bruce in greeting, she shut the door behind them and turned towards her first guest. "Uncle Al, Bruce, this is Amy. She lives across the hall with her brother."

Lynnlee watched as Amy briefly shook their hands, keeping her head down and pointedly looking away from them. She quickly stepped away, whispered her thanks to Lynnlee for the tea and practically bolted out the door. She could hear the door across the hall snap shut and even the locks fall into place. "Well that was odd."

"Did she happen to say what her last name was?" her uncle asked.

"No, she didn't. She just said she's taking care of her brother though. Said he's not well."

Bruce turned but not before she caught him giving her uncle a hard look. Her Uncle Al's face took on a serious tone. "You be careful. There are a lot of unstable people still in the city."

She gave him a mock salute. "Yes, sir. Now, what's for lunch?"


	7. Found Out

Author's Note: I just wanted to say a huge thank you to all my reviewers and the people who put me on their alert list/favorite story lists! You are my biggest inspiration and the ones that bring Amy and Lynnlee to life for me! Thank you, thank you and oh, yeah, thank you!

**The Space Between**

**Chapter Seven: Found Out**

Amy laid awake in the master bedroom and stared at the shadows on the ceiling. Jon had taken the spare room next to hers, offering the larger room to her as a mixed peace offering and thank you gesture. Every time she had made eye contact with him these last few hours, she could see nothing but guilt in his face. He was blaming himself for effectively ruining her life along with his. He had even tried to talk her into going back to California , get on with her life and forget about him and the city.

But for all his guilt, she only felt double the emotion. If she had come out here with him, like he had asked her to before he left California, or at least called him more or emailed, something that kept them in contact more, this whole disaster could have been avoided. Before he boarded that plane for Gotham they had never spent more than forty-eight hours apart from each other. She had missed him terribly for that first week but her college roommate, Lina, had filled the following weeks with shopping, lunches, museums and outdoor concerts. Soon, Amy grew comfortable in her independence from Jon and she thought he had done the same. She couldn't have been more wrong.

Something creaked towards the front of the apartment and Amy quickly disentangled herself from the sheets. It was either Jon, a burglar or just the floorboards settling. Secretly, she hoped it was a burglar as she pulled the Louisville slugger, that the previous resident had left, from the closet. She wanted to beat the crap out of someone in an effort to release some of the pent up emotions from the previous few days. She slipped out into the hallway, found Jon's door to be closed and raised the bat as she continued down the hallway.

The living room looked empty but shadows hid many of the corners. Keeping the bat firmly gripped in one hand, she flipped the light switch closest to her. Nothing. Thankfully, the curtains weren't pulled on the main windows of the room and even though Amy started across the expansive space, she used the darkened glass as a mirror to what was behind her. The briefest ripple of black appeared near her shoulder and she swung around with every ounce of strength she had. A satisfying smack reverberated around the room but the shape merely stumbled, muttering a curse. She raised the bat again, only to find it had snapped in half.

"For having a sprained wrist, you sure can hit with a lot of force."

Amy dropped the bat and backed away from the hoarse voice, blocking the

Batman's path to the hallway. "What do you want?"

"To talk. Same as before."

He sounded winded and Amy took personal pride in that. "What are you waiting for then?"

"For you to be unarmed."

"Consider it payback for the wrist."

"How's your brother?"

Amy bit her lip. "Don't you know already? You've managed to break into our 'safe house' so surely you must have watched us."

"You haven't been here that long. Besides, you said you understand him better than anyone else. I want your opinion on him."

_I want your opinion, _well, she'd give it to him. "I think his condition is your fault."

"My fault?"

Actually, she didn't really believe it. It just felt good to cast the blame on someone else. "Yes. I believe you got overzealous in your delivering of justice that you drove him over the edge. Think about it, seeing a grown adult male dressed like a bat is enough to cause anyone to doubt their sanity, me included. Have you ever been evaluated?"

"Back to your brother and how developing a fear toxin and testing it on human subjects is my fault."

Amy crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "The dose of toxin that you hit him with was a concentrated dose. In short, you broke him mentally by overloading his brain with the drug and threatening him."

"He had just used the same concentration on ADA Dawes. So what do you want from me? An apology?"

She felt tears stinging the back of her eyes. "His nightmares are of you! All of them! Every time he closes his eyes, it's you chocking, threatening and killing him." She hadn't realized what she was doing until the throbbing came back in her wrist. Her sight had been blinded by tears and she was punching and hitting anything solid that was in front of her. She didn't know or understand why he allowed her to take out her frustration on him but he did until she collapsed in an exhausted heap on the floor. She took comfort that when she did finally lose control, it was with a man decked out in armor and not her defenseless brother.

"I understand why you're upset," he was saying, "but your brother is reaping the consequences of his actions."

Amy wiped the tears from her face and pushed back the ones that still threatened to fall. "I know."

"Do you have a handle on him?"

Amy nodded tiredly. "For now. I assume you'll be watching for the moment when I don't so you can swoop in and save the day again."

"You assume correctly."

Amy felt the floorboards shift underneath her and realized he was leaving. "Wait-"

"I don't want him to know I was here."

Amy snorted. "No worries there. I gave him enough sleeping pills to choke a small horse. I want to know how did you find us?"

"It's my city. I know everything that goes on in it."

"I don't doubt it." Amy looked up and found that he was gone. He had asked if she had a handle on Jon but she was more worried about keeping in control of herself at the moment. She had to keep it together for Jon's sake but that didn't make it any easier when she felt her life and mind slipping away from her piece by piece.

* * *

Jon woke up the next morning, or at least he thought it was the morning, with a dull headache. It was the first time in a very long time that he had managed to make it through a night without waking up screaming. He probably would have felt rested if it wasn't for the hangover-like throbbing in his head. Just how many sleeping pills did Amy give him? Not that he could blame her, he was more than willing to medicate himself into oblivion if it meant giving her some peace. God knew she deserved more than what he was putting her through.

Grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, clothes he was not accustomed to wearing, Jon half stumbled out of the bedroom to search for Amy. However it wasn't Amy that he found sitting on the leather couch in the living room watching Dr. Phil of all things. The idea that the reddish-brown haired woman taking up residence in the living room may be a hallucination didn't seem out of the realm of possibility. The only thing that threw doubt in his mind was the fact that thick, wavy hair and a slim, well dressed figure wasn't exactly frightening. The fact that she seemed so tuned in to Dr. Phil was what was scary. He cleared his throat and shut his eyes at the pain that ripped through his head.

"Oh, you must be Jonathan."

She sounded British. Interesting. He braced himself as he opened his eyes, expecting her face to be distorted in some way but it wasn't. In fact, she was quite beautiful and looking at him expectantly. Oh, right, introductions. "Yes, I am. Is Amy…"

"She had to run out to the store, she won't be long." She stepped towards him and offered her hand. "I'm Lynnlee, by the way. I live across the hall."

"The muscian."

She smiled even brighter, if that was possible. "Yes. I hope it doesn't bother you that I'm here."

He shook his head and then realized the mistake too late. Bright spots exploded behind his eyelids and it felt like the room tilted. He was dimly aware of someone pulling and pushing him until he practically fell onto the couch. There was a click and Dr. Phil's "Get real" speech ended abruptly. "Thank you."

"Can I get you anything? Water, juice-"

"Vicodin."

She laughed nervously.

"Water will be fine."

It didn't take her but a few heartbeats before the cold glass was pressed into his hand. He swallowed a few mouthfuls before sitting up and opening his eyes. Lynnlee was holding out three white pills to him.

"Amy told me to give you these when you woke up. It's just ibproferin but she thought it would be enough to knock out the headache."

It wouldn't take the pain away but it would hurt Amy's feelings if he didn't take it. Mustering a smile, he took the pills from Lynnlee and swallowed them. Lynnlee looked a little anxious as she sat down next to him on the couch and he didn't blame her. She probably had seen the news and he wondered why Amy even allowed her in the apartment. He was surprised the cops hadn't busted down the door yet. He should probably just go back to bed and let her return to the psychobabble of Dr. Phil.

"Amy was really worried about you. That's why she asked if I could sit here while she ran out for some food," Lynnlee said, breaking into his thoughts.

Curious to know just what Amy had said to this woman, he continued with the conversation. "Worried about what?"

"You've been sleeping for two days now."

Two days? How many pills _did_ Amy give him? No wonder his head felt like it was going to explode. "She was never good with the dosage of medication."

Lynnlee laughed lightly. "Yes, she said that was your speciality, not hers."

"What else did she say?"

"That she's worried about you. She said you're brilliant with a cheeky sense of humor and if you started to psychoanalyze me, I had permission to beat you with a pillow."

"That sounds like Amy."

"And I will tell you what I told her the first day we met. I trust my gut feeling more than what other people say. Neither one of you are setting off instinct meters so whatever you did couldn't have been that bad."

Gut feelings and instinct meters. She spoke in a very articulate, though flippant, manner and it intrigued him. He followed instinct too but only when it could be backed up by solid facts and research. She could follow instinct until it lead her into the darkest parts of the Narrows but it wouldn't save her before she realized her instinct was wrong that day. He was a death trap to her and to Amy.

An unfamiliar rise of anger towards his sister surprised him. Why did she have to draw another casualty into this mess that he created? He was trying to figure out ways to get Amy out of it when she goes and invites another stranger to "babysit" him. It was frustrating, aggrevating and most of all, humiliating.

"Are you okay?"

He looked up at Lynnlee's worried green eyes and tried to relax. "I'm fine."

"You looked really angry."

He sighed. "I am. My sister should have known better than to get someone else involved in our…situation."

"Well, I do have a say in it myself. I could have refused. She warned me you were unwell and could be quite disagreeable when you were one hundred percent."

_Unwell, _that was putting it mildly. Amy always did have a flare for words.

"Besides," Lynnlee continued, "I like Amy. She can be quite funny and it's always nice to have another girl to talk to. And I'd like to get to know you too."

Jon stared down at his distorted reflection in the water glass. He had been so completely wrapped up in the development of the toxin, re-creating his image to fit the work he was doing in Gotham and then, of course, his melt down with the Batman. He had lost track of himself somewhere along the way and he needed to backtrack though the events to find what exactly had sent him spinning out of control. Yes, he'd like to get to know himself too. But until then, all Lynnlee and Amy would see would be a shell of what he used to be. At least for Lynnlee, it would be enough.

For now.


	8. Sunflowers, Stone and Scarecrows

**The Space Between**

**Chapter Eight: Sunflowers, Stone and Scarecrows**

Amy wasn't sure if Jon was aware of what the date was and she secretly hoped he would remain ignorant. He didn't need anymore emotional stimuli in his life right now. Having her there was bad enough and she secretly wondered if it would have been best if a psychiatrist, completely removed from the situation, should try to help him piece back his sanity and not his twin sister. Even though she had caught glimpses of how he used to be years ago, there were still many times in the last two weeks that she was faced with a morose, brooding man she didn't recognize.

She had told him she was going for a run, playing up the fact that the rain was the perfect excuse to pull her sweatshirt hood over her head to keep people from noticing her. He had been reluctant to let her go and she couldn't figure out if it was because he was afraid of being left alone or if he was concerned for her safety. It puzzled her for the entire elevator ride down to the lobby but once the cool, autumn air hit her in the face, all the stress and worry seemed to evaporate. It didn't take long for the familiar rhythm of her feet hitting the pavement to quite her wild thoughts. It felt wonderful to not have to think of anything.

Thirty minutes into the run, she passed a street vendor selling flowers. Jogging in place, she bought a large bouquet of sunflowers and kept moving towards her destination. She had toyed with the idea of asking Jon to come with her but quickly decided against it. The last thing they needed was for him to go into a full blown panic attack in public, even if it was in a cemetery and could explained away by grief. It took her forty-three minutes to run from the apartment to her parent's headstone at the Gotham Heights Cemetery. She was going to be dog tired by the time she made it back to the apartment.

Suddenly standing there in front of the headstone, with her parent's names forever emblazoned on the granite sapped all the energy she seemed to have. She and Jon would come every year on the yearly anniversary and lay sunflowers on the headstone. That was until the foster system moved them too far away to make the visit possible. Only one of their foster mothers, Sally, had driven them the three hours back to the graveyard when they were fifteen. Two days later, Sally overdosed on her sleeping medication and they were shuffled off once more to another unwilling foster couple.

"Hi, Mom and Dad," Amy said, laying the flowers in their usual place and sitting cross legged on the damp ground. "Jon couldn't come today but he would have if he could. It's a long story." She absently brushed leaves off of the marker and yanked a couple weeds that had grown up. Jon never cared for her habit to talking to the headstone. He said it "wasn't healthy," and her response was always a quick "shut up." She missed that banter between them. He had used sarcasm with her these last couple of weeks but it always came out more caustic than before.

"I'm sure you already know by now what's happened. In fact, you probably know better than I do. I know I say this every time but boy, do I mean it now. I really wish you were here. You always knew how to fix us when we needed it. I don't know how to fix Jon, Mom. I'm starting to feel like there is something broke inside of me now too. There's something really wrong and I can't-"

A twig snapped and Amy jumped to her feet. A well-dressed business man with dark eyes was standing just a few feet from her, staring at her with concern. She looked closer and realized he was a very familiar looking business man. Where had she seen him before?

"I'm sorry," he was saying, "I didn't mean to intrude, you just looked…"

"Just visiting my parents." She hoped she sounded crazy enough for him to leave her alone. She didn't want to run the risk of being identified but he was looking at her like he was trying to place her. So much for talking things out with her parents.

"Wait, you're Lynnlee Grayson's neighbor."

Amy nodded and moved to step away from the grave.

"No, please, really, don't go," he said as he started to back away. "I shouldn't have interrupted you."

_No, you shouldn't have,_ Amy thought viciously but realized if she saw someone pouring their heart out to a gravestone, she would have asked them if they needed anything too. "That's fine. Um," she bit her lip and extended a hand, "Amy."

He smiled slightly. "That's right. Bruce."

"Wayne?" The name slipped out before she could even stop it.

"Yes, it is."

He looked a little shocked that she knew the name. "My bro- family used to live in Gotham . Your family's name was a household one in my family."

He nodded in understanding. "Is, uh, Crane," he pointed to the tombstone, "you're last name?"

Well, there was no reason to deny it now. "Yes, it is."

He grinned evilly. "You wouldn't happen to be related to that psycho that escaped Arkham, would you?"

A sudden urge to punch the man in the face came over Amy but she counted to ten, reigned herself in and realized if she broke his nose she would ruin his good looks. Wouldn't want to bring attention to herself by messing up the face of Gotham's playboy. Yeah, sure, that was why she wasn't going to punch him. "No, no relation."

He leaned towards her slightly and she caught a whiff of Pierre Cardin, the rain intensifying the scent of his cologne. It distracted her so much she almost missed what he was saying to her. "You're a terrible liar."

"So, go call the police," she turned to walk away when he grabbed her by the wrist. She swung around, ready to defend herself but when she saw the tense set to his jaw and intensity of his dark eyes, the fight went out of her completely.

"If you know my name, you know my parents are dead, too. I won't call the cops, not under these circumstances." He let go of her wrist. "Besides, Lynnlee already told me who was living across the hall from her two weeks ago. If I was going to call the cops, I would have done it by now."

"So why haven't you called the police?"

"Because Lynnlee has vouched for your brother. She says he hasn't acted or seemed to be a threat in any way at the moment." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm sure the Batman has an eye on things."

"Hm," was all Amy said in response, filing that odd piece of the conversation to the back of her mind. Bruce looked over her shoulder and took a step back.

"I'll let you get back to your visit," he motioned to the headstone. "Maybe I'll stop in and visit you when Alfred comes to see his niece."

Amy didn't say anything as he made his way back to the gleaming Lincoln town car that was waiting for him. She tried to push the encounter out of her mind but when she turned back to the headstone, there was someone else walking towards her, a bouquet of sunflowers in their hands. She couldn't believe her eyes even when the person stopped on the other side of grave.

"Jon?"

He placed his bouquet next to hers before shoving his hands in his pockets. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming here today?"

"I thought you forgot."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Forgot? How could I forget that twenty-four years ago, we spent this day huddled in a closet, listening to the police describe in detail the murder scene of our parents?"

Amy rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

Both of them stood in silence and stared at their parent's names, the rain soaking the both of them. Jon made a soft noise and Amy looked up at him, an almost familiar smirk on his face. "What?"

"Did I interrupt your talk?"

"With Bruce Wayne?"

"Was that who that was? No, I meant with Mom and Dad."

Amy huffed indignantly.

"It's not healthy, you know, talking to people who aren't there."

"Jon," she tried to scowl but failed miserably. "Shut up."

* * *

As soon as his sister looked like she was going to pout, the old feeling of sibling connection came back to him full force. The smirk without sharpness easily came to his face.

"It's not healthy, you know, talking to people who aren't there." It felt so normal to say that and suddenly breathing became easier. Watching Amy's face struggle between a frown and a full fledged smile was priceless. She felt the reconnection too.

"Jon, shut up."

He had heard other people talk about "those three little words" that solidify or tear apart a relationship. Of course, they meant "I love you" but in his mind, those three little words were the three that just escaped his sister's lips. For some strange reason, they were nothing like the common place "I love you" but he knew that was exactly what they meant. And that drove Scarecrow to the darkest corner of his mind, completely out of sight and awareness. However, having that hissing voice no longer coloring the memories of the last few months, the gravity of his actions overtook him.

"Jon?"

Amy…she sounded like she was in a tunnel. Why was she in a tunnel? It was raining, maybe that's why, to get out of the rain. Wasn't there a song about getting out of the rain? Why was it suddenly getting so dark? He felt his knees connect to the wet ground and then his hands. Amy was somewhere, he could hear her but not understand her. The screams he had craved for those few months rang in his ears and he wondered why Amy couldn't hear them too.

_You'll miss hearing those. Trust me. _

No, no no no no. He tried speaking the words but didn't know if he was being successful. It wasn't healthy to talk to people who weren't there.

_You think you can just shove me aside? Think again, Jonny boy._

The smell of wet dirt filled his nostrils and he suddenly remembered where he was. His parent's grave…he had his face down in the soft, green grass that covered his parent's caskets. He could feel Amy's arms wrapped around him, whether to help him back up on his feet or just protecting him from the rain, he didn't know. Protect him…that was all she ever did, poor girl.

_You didn't need her when you had me. I protected you then. _

"Scarecrow…"

_Yes?_

It wasn't healthy to talk to people who weren't there. "Go away." Amy was sobbing. He could feel her tears on his neck, burning hot in contrast to the cold rain. He hoped she understood he didn't mean her but rather that insidious voice in his head. It wasn't healthy…

_When she lets you down, I'll be back._

_She won't let me down, _Jon thought. _She came to Arkham to find me. She walked through hell to get to me. She won't let me down. And I'm not going to let her down. _

_People let each other down all the time, Jonny. You're no different and neither is she. And neither is the other one. _

Jon's breath hitched. Other one? What other one?

_I've never let you down, Jonny. I never will. So take your sabbatical. Play the big brother to Amy and knight in shining armor to the musician. Have fun. But don't be surprised when little sister doesn't need you and the damsel in distress doesn't want to be saved. You'll come back to me and we'll try again. _

"No, we're done."

_Keep telling yourself that, Jonny. Just keep telling yourself that._


	9. Sanctuary

**Author's Note: **A huge thank you to my reviewers! You're the best! Please keep them coming! I love to hear people's thoughts about the characters and storyline and their guesses as to where things are going. It gives me inspiration and makes me look at the story at different angles too! So please, share your thoughts! Just don't be mean...I cry easily.

**Chapter Nine: Sanctuary**

"Did you have a nice chat, Master Bruce?"

Bruce tried to brush the raindrops from his coat and ran his fingers through his wet hair. "Yeah, I guess."

"Wonderful, perhaps now we can be only ten minutes late to your board meeting as opposed to being on time before this little detour."

"'Little detour?' Anytime the Crane's step foot out of their apartment, they're in my territory and I want to know what they're doing."

"Your territory or Batman's territory?"

"It's all the same, Alfred." Bruce watched the twins by the graveside and felt a stab of jealousy. He had Rachel and Alfred standing by him at his parent's grave but the connection Amy had with her brother surpassed anything he had felt at that time. Maybe that had been the defining point for the two Crane siblings…standing next to their parents grave and realizing all they had were each other. He had been eleven when his parents were killed and he couldn't imagine having to bear that burden at the age of six.

The car started to move forward and Bruce glanced out the window one more time to see if the Cranes were still there. Apparently a lot had happened in those few moments of introspection. Jonathan was face down on the ground with Amy leaning over him, wildly looking around for help. Before he even knew what he was doing, Bruce had told Alfred to stop and was back in the rain, running towards them.

He didn't really care what happened to Jonathan Crane. The man had done severe damage to the city and almost killed him and Rachel. But the look on Amy's face was one he had never seen before. He had seen steely determination, annoyance and fierce protectiveness but never outright panic. By the time he reached the fallen duo, Amy's wide eyes were filled with tears. He could have been a stranger and she still would have reached out to him.

"I don't know what's wrong…" she took a shaky breath. "I don't know what to do."

Amy kept repeating her mantra but Jonathan was saying one of his own, which strangely enough, sounded like "I'm sorry" over and over again. It almost seemed as if the good "fear" doctor was in a state of shock and as if to confirm those suspicions, he suddenly went completely limp, draped half way across Amy's bended legs. Bruce quickly felt for a pulse and found one, just very rapid. Amy's mouth opened and Bruce quickly slapped his hand over it. Keeping a low profile, even in a cemetery, was crucial right now. He couldn't afford to have her hysterical.

"He passed out. That's all."

Her eyes closed, more tears spilling down her cheeks and mixing with the rain. Bruce removed his hand slowly and her face tensed. Her forehead wrinkled, lips quivering and she shoved both hands into her wet hair, grabbing fistfuls of dark curls.

"I can't do this. I can't do this anymore."

"Amy," he placed a bracing hand on her shoulder and found her to be trembling, almost to the point of shivering. "Amy, listen"

"Don't know what I was thinking…"

Bruce gave her a good shake. "Amy!"

A dim sense of recognition sparked in her hazy blue eyes. "Bruce…Wayne."

"That's right. I'm going to take your brother-"

Her hands slipped out of her hair and grabbed a hold of Jonathan.

"Listen," he continued, "I'm going to put him into my car and take him back to my house, alright? You're coming too."

She shook her head. "No, cops…Arkham…"

"Don't worry about that. I won't call the police, I won't call Arkham. I just want to get you out of the rain." Was that why he had gotten out of the car the second time? Could it really be that simple?

"I don't know you." She reached down and brushed back some of her brother's hair from his face. "I don't him anymore."

"Then what do you have to lose?"

She fixed him with a steady gaze, her eyes that funny, transparent blue and suddenly he felt like he was staring at the photograph of a six year old Amy Crane. "Everything."

Bruce swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "Well, that's not going to happen." He looked up to see Alfred standing behind Amy and nodded to him. Alfred laid a hand on Amy's shoulder and her head turned slightly in that direction.

"Come along, then, Miss Crane." Alfred had to slip a hand under her arm and gently pull her up to her feet. Amy's eyes never left her brother as Bruce picked him up in a fireman's hold and started back to the town car.

* * *

Lynnlee watched her uncle pace back, forth, in and out of the kitchen at Wayne Manor. She had to admit, the re-design of the kitchen was flawless: functional and yet it still held that country-charm the original had. It was very comforting, especially with the sound of rain lashing at the windows and a cup of hot tea in her hands. The only thing destroying the moment was her uncle's tense movements.

"Uncle Al, what's the matter?"

He didn't even look up from the dishes he had decided to wash. "Nothing."

"Oh, come now. You've been all over this kitchen in the last few minutes. Something's bothering you." She absently rubbed her finger over the raised patter of her tea cup. "Is it the Crane's being here?"

"Of course it is."

Lynnlee almost dropped her tea cup. She hadn't expected his response to be so blunt. "Why?"

Her Uncle's jaw tightened. "Jonathan Crane developed a gas that contained a hallucinogen that causes the person infected to literally see what they fear. I had to watch Master Bruce and Miss Dawes be effected by it and both of them almost died. So forgive me for not feeling amiable towards Mr. Crane at the moment." He turned and gave her a hard look. "I would appreciate it if you weren't so friendly with him either."

Lynnlee turned to look out the window. She had wondered what it was the Crane twins were running from and now she had an answer. It wasn't a nice answer, one that she could explain away as misguided ideals. To knowingly develop a drug that would be used to literally frighten people to death was not something to which you could respond "well, his heart was in the right place."

"Lynnlee?"

"People can change." She tried to make it sound convincing but it rang hollow even to her ears. Her uncle sighed, dried his hands and sat down at the table with her.

"I know you like to help people, fix them up and send them on their way. You've always been like that and it is a most admirable quality. But do not try that with this man. You can't fix him. Professional psychiatrists have already tried."

"Amy seems to think that today might have been a breaking point for him. What if he can be saved?"

"Then you let someone else do it."

"What if no one else can?"

Her uncle sat back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. "Why are you so determined to be his saviour?"

That was the million dollar question at the moment. Why did she feel an inexplicable draw to the Cranes, Jonathan especially? "I don't know. I just feel..." she shrugged, "this is what I'm supposed to do because no one else can."

An odd look passed over her uncle's face, as if he had heard another explanation similar to the one she just gave. The undefined look faded and a weary resignation set in. "Just be careful. Do not let yourself get pulled into their game."

"Uncle Al, I don't think they're playing a game."

"Amy may not be, but I'm worried Jonathan is."

Lynnlee nodded and patted her uncle's hand. "I will."

* * *

For the first time in a year, Jonathan Crane woke up to complete silence. No raspy voice overriding his thoughts, whispering promises or just creating a solid buzz of noise in his brain. He could hear plainly the rain on glass windows, wind whipping through the trees, someone breathing steadily…his eyes flew open and looked towards the direction of the breathing.

Amy was curled up in a ornate looking chair, a heavy throw covering her and she was sound asleep. He looked around the room, trying to place where in the world they were now. The windows were high and arched and with the cloud cover it was difficult to say what time it was. The room was large and furnished in all antiques. Wherever they were, it was beautiful.

Getting out of bed, he found he was wearing a borrowed pair of track pants and an over-sized shirt. The mystery continued apparently. He thought about waking Amy up, seeing if she knew anything about their whereabouts but for the first time since he saw her in Gotham, she looked peaceful. He didn't even want to run the risk of having her wake up if he tried to move her from the chair to the bed he just vacated, so he decided to leave her where she was.

He found his glasses on a small table by the bed, wiped them off with the edge of his shirt and put them on his face. He half expected the Scarecrow to make an appearance then but his mind remained strangely clear. He started to allow hope to take hold that maybe the worst was behind him now. He went to the door, half expecting it to be locked but was surprised when it opened easily. He realized why when he looked down and saw Lynnlee's green eyes staring up at him. She must have been leaning on the door when he opened it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, afraid it might wake Amy up. He offered her his hand and pulled her back up to her feet.

"It's alright," she whispered back. "I should have been leaning on the wall anyway."

"So," Jonathan shut the door, "I take it you're my guard?"

She looked sheepish. "I wouldn't think of it that way. Just a concerned friend."

"That makes it sound much better." He felt practically giddy without the Scarecrow present, he almost didn't care where he was. Almost. "So, where-"

"Wayne Manor," Lynnlee answered and started walking down the hall. "This where my Uncle Alfred lives and works. He's Bruce Wayne's butler. I figure you're hungry, so let's head down to the kitchen."

Jonathan followed after her. "And does Mr. Wayne know who his house guests are?"

"I think so. But Amy told me that he told her he's not going to call the police. Personally," she leaned towards him and the scent of jasmine drifted up to him, "I think he's a little sweet on her."

"I wasn't even aware they knew each other."

She grinned. "Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight?"

"Of course but I don't put much stock in it." He bit the inside of his cheek. He hadn't meant to sound so "psychiatrist" to her.

"Oh, I forgot," she waved her hands dismissively, "you're one of those 'follow your head instead of your heart' types."

"Well," Jonathan smiled, the first true one in a very long time, "people can change."


	10. Casting Out Fear

**Author's Note:** Hi all my wonderful readers! Sorry for the delay with this chapter. I wanted to finish up the first part of my Red Eye fan fic (which I did!) and then I got slammed with allergies and with allergies I get migraines. Not fun. Hopefully I'll be able to get one up on those nasty little buggers and keep up with Amy and Jon's adventures.

Also, there should be a fluff warning starting in this chapter and definitely in the next one. But don't worry if you don't like fluff…the action will commence!

**Chapter Ten: ****Casting Out Fear**

"This is the third bank that has been hit by the criminal who calls himself 'The Joker.' Despite his theatrical flare, the police still have been unable to apprehend him."

Amy held up her coffee mug to hide the smirk on her face as she turned away from the kitchen TV. "Sounds like a job for the Batman."

Bruce gave her a cursory glance before returning his gaze to the paper. "I guess so."

The truth was, after spending close to a week at Wayne Manor she was able to organize her thoughts on what had happened since she came to Gotham. Most importantly, she was able to analyze her experiences with the Batman and she was fairly certain if Bruce were to lower his voice and sport a Kevlar bodysuit, he would be Batman. However, it wasn't just the timber of the voice that raised her suspicions. She still had a bandage on her wrist to offer extra support and Bruce had noticed it but never asked about it. Add that to his strange absences at night and sleeping late the next morning, it all seemed to add up. Of course, she could be wrong but she doubted it. One day, he'd pick up on the hints and either confirm or deny them.

"Good morning, Master Bruce. Miss Amy."

"Morning, Alfred," Amy greeted while Bruce grunted. Amy was finding herself enjoying the Englishman's company. His constant distrust of her brother still grated on her nerves but on the pleasant occasions where they would have afternoon tea and talk, she found more of a father figure in him than any of her foster fathers.

"What did you do for sparkling conversation before I got here, Alfred?"

"Talked to myself mostly."

"You did not," Bruce spoke up from behind the paper.

"How would you know," Amy shot back, "you're asleep most of the time."

"And how are you going to spend your day today?" Bruce asked.

"Depends on the chore list that Alfred gives me."

"You're not giving her chore lists, are you, Alfred?"

"Of course not, sir." Alfred gave her mock disgusted look. "I told you, the both of them are trouble starters."

"Well," Amy put her coffee mug down, "you're having a Halloween party here next week, aren't you?"

Bruce nodded. "A masquerade, yes."

"Why don't you let me decorate for it? It'll give me something to do and I can enlist Jon to help me." She looked expectantly at the two men and let out a sigh. "Under Alfred's supervision, of course."

Bruce shrugged. "Fine by me."

Alfred nodded once. "Very well. Speaking of your brother, where are his whereabouts this morning?"

Amy was hoping Jon would have made an appearance before Alfred and Bruce asked her where he was. She hated ruining these times when he was truly happy. She could only hope that Bruce and Alfred had enough trust in her to let him be. "Lynnlee wanted to go walking this morning so he went with her."

Alfred turned away from her but Bruce asked the question they were thinking. "Is that wise?"

"Whatever happened in the graveyard that day brought my brother back to me. He's been the way I remember him: quiet, intellectual and caring. So yes, I think it's wise and it's safe. I wouldn't have let her go with him if I thought otherwise."

Alfred didn't say anything else and Bruce just nodded and went back to his paper. Amy picked up her coffee mug again and went back to watching the news. They were showing a surveillance picture of the so called "Joker" and she wondered what it was that drew the mentally unstable to Gotham. Secretly, she hoped that this new criminal would take the focus off her and Jon. They couldn't stay at Wayne Manor forever, no matter how much it felt like home. She was also curious to see how Jon would react to the real world as opposed to the quaint, almost fairy tale like air the Manor exuded. It was easy to be happy and sane here.

* * *

Jonathan was beyond happy at the moment. It had been so long since he had felt at peace, he had actually forgotten what it felt like. Part of the feeling was due to having his sister back. He hadn't realized the empty space she created when she wasn't around him and the comfort she brought when she was near. They had even started to finish each other's sentences these last few days which boded well for the relationship.

Scarecrow had remained strangely quiet and absent since the graveyard. He didn't know what had caused the hasty retreat of the alter ego but he was thankful for it and wouldn't question it. He had tried to analyze this personality that grew from having to deal with mobsters, criminals and al Ghul. Scarecrow fed on fear, the idea of watching someone scream, cry and become utter helpless appealed to the alter ego in an almost obessive way.

Pearl, one of their many foster mothers, had made sure when he and Amy lived with her in Oklahoma, that they had "the fear of God put into them" as she put it. Every Sunday, dressed in whatever was clean, unpatched and that fit, he and Amy would sit next to Pearl in the back breaking wooden pew of the little country church. They had been the typical teenagers, wanting to be sleeping in or playing with the two horses that Pearl had in her backyard rather than sitting in an unairconditioned church. But there was a verse the pastor recited one morning that kept coming back to him since he retrieved his mind from the Scarecrow. "Perfect love casts out all fear."

Maybe that was the trick to getting the Scarecrow to stay hidden away: love. It would explain his appearance when Amy was absent from his life and his retreat when she came for him. And if Amy wasn't enough to keep Scarecrow in check, then Lynnlee certainly was. He knew her uncle had filled her in on who he was and what he had done. Oddly enough, Jonathan couldn't summon up an ill feeling towards the man for doing that, and it saved Jonathan from having to do it himself. Depsite that, she still sought him out, wanting his company and there were just some things you didn't examine too closely.

"How much longer do you think you'll be here, Jon?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "How long do you have?"

"My last performance is this weekend."

They were walking along the perimeter of the grounds that backed up to the woods. They were far enough away from the Manor house that anyone spying on them would have to use binoculars, not that Jonathan would put it past any of the three but he really didn't care who was watching, if anyone. All he cared about was Lynnlee and the fact that she wanted to spend time with him. However, if her last performance was this weekend, it only gave them a few more days together. It dampened his mood considerably.

_Told you. _

Jonathan drew in a breath of the cold air too fast and he choked on it. It had been two weeks since he had last heard the Scarecrow. Perhaps all his thinking on the alter ego had given him power to come back and taunt him now.

"Jon, are you alright?"

Lynnlee was beside him, a comforting hand on his arm. He could feel Scarecrow recoil at Lynnlee's touch. He wondered what Scarecrow would do if he kissed her? There was a low hiss that sounded in his ear before he felt Scarecrow retreat once more. He had used the thought as a threat but he did wonder what would happen if he indulged in that desire. Knowing his luck with women, she would slap him. But looking at her up this close, her face flushed from the cold air, green eyes bright and hair hanging in waves down to the middle of her back…getting slapped would still make kissing her worth it.

"Jon? Do you want me to go get Amy?"

He shook his head, still trying to catch his breath and push those thoughts out of his mind. If she didn't retaliate her uncle most certainly would. "No, I'm fine. You, uh, were saying your last performance was this weekend."

"Um, yes. But Bruce always has a masquerade on Halloween, so I may stay for that."

"What about your band?"

Lynnlee shrugged and started to walk away again. "I think we're all going our separate ways after this contract is up. Maybe it is time to find a place and stay put for more than a few weeks."

He could understand that fully. "Any places in mind?"

"Well, I could always go back to England, that would make mum and dad happy. I enjoyed parts of Canada as well as California. Or, I could just stay here, with my Uncle."

"I like the last option."

Lynnlee gave him a wide smile. "Does that mean you'll be staying around Gotham then."

_Only if you are, _he wanted to say but held himself back. "I don't know. I don't know what's going to happen."

"Well, I guess that means one thing," she slipped her hand into his, "We're just going to have to enjoy the time we have together."

His mind latched onto the words "we," "enjoy," and "together." He tried to memorize the feel of her hand in his, where her calluses were from her almost non stop practice with her violin, how their fingers just seemed to know how to entwine with each other. It was at once comforting and also set his heart racing. Even as confusing as that was, the over riding emotion he felt was joy.

* * *

Amy knew something was up with her brother when he and Lynnlee came in from their walk. The tense air in the kitchen lifted immediately when Lynnlee made her entrance, all smiles and flushed. Jon kept his eyes on the floor the entire time until he sat down at the table next to Amy. She noticed his cheeks were red too but that was the problem with their fair skin, it was too difficult to tell the difference between a flush and the effects of fresh air.

"Did you have a nice walk?" Amy asked.

He nodded his head. "Yes."

"It's a beautiful day out there," Lynnlee was saying as she poured herself some coffee. "You should go enjoy it, Bruce. Amy."

"What about me?" Alfred asked.

Amy peeked over her shoulder to see Lynnlee scowling at him. "Well, yes, you too. I need to go practice for a little while. I'll see you all later."

Amy glanced over at Bruce and found him focused on the TV report. They were still running through the Joker story though they were wrapping it up. She doubted he even heard Lynnlee's less than subtle opinion on how they should spend their time. She hated to admit it but Bruce was beginning to get less annoying and more interesting to her. She didn't know if it had anything to do with her realization of his secret identity or not. All she knew was, she was starting to see he wasn't just the bumbling playboy he made himself out to be and that did intrigue her.

"Are you ready then, Master Bruce?"

"Yeah," Bruce stood up from the table and put his suit jacket on. "You two behave yourselves."

"Always," Amy and Jon answered in unison.

"I'm never going to get used to that," Bruce mumbled as he and Alfred left the kitchen.

Amy gave them ample time to leave the house before she turned to her brother. "Okay, Jon, spill."

"On what?"

"On what?!" Amy gave him exasperated sigh. "You come in here, all red faced and not looking at anyone after you just spent a good hour outside with Lynnlee. What happened?"

"Nothing happened."

"Look at me."

Reluctantly, he raised his eyes to look at her in the face.

"I knew it," Amy hit the table with her open palm. "You're in love. Did you kiss her?"

"No."

"But you were thinking about it."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Yes."

Amy laughed. "This is too cute. My little Jonny's growing up."

"You're one to talk."

Amy's laughter cut out immediately. "What?"

"I see the way you look at Bruce. You're not the only one smitten here."

Amy scoffed. "That's ridiculous. The man drives me up a wall."

"And oddly enough," he gave her that smug grin of his, "those are the ones you always seem to fall for."

Amy wanted to tell him that he was so far from the truth but she couldn't because he was exactly right.


	11. Halloween Preperation

**

* * *

**

Chapter Eleven: Halloween Preparation

Lynnlee watched Jonathan rub his hands together and blow into them. They were assigned to the outside decorations and were currently stringing lanterns the entire length of driveway. They were hoping for an unseasonably warm day to hang the lights, but mother nature had other thoughts: it was in the fifties and drizzling.

"Jon, do you want me to hang some of them? Give your hands a chance to thaw out?"

"No, that's fine." He gave her a small smile. "I'm just going to kill my sister when we go back inside."

Lynnlee laughed a little at his comment and handed him another string of the plain white lights. Her last performance was last night and she was able to get a good nights sleep before offering her help with the decorations. She hadn't told her uncle yet, but she fully intended to spend every day she had at Wayne Manor with Jon. She couldn't explain the draw she felt for this man but it was there and she cared about him more than she probably should. But she always believed in following her heart and her heart was undoubtedly bound to Jon Crane.

"Do you have a costume for the masquerade?"

Lynnlee shook her head. "I have some ideas. What about you?"

He climbed down from the ladder with a regretful grin. "I don't think I'll be welcome."

"What if I invited you?"

He looked everywhere but at her. "I don't think your Uncle would be very pleased with that. Besides, you should go with someone that'll show you a very nice time."

He was right, Uncle Al wouldn't be pleased. But she wasn't guaranteed weeks with Jon. Most likely, only a few more days. "I happen to think you would show me a very nice time."

"Why me?"

He wasn't wearing his glasses, the rain kept clinging to the glass and after cleaning them fifteen times, he finally just slipped them into his jacket pocket. Lynnlee was grateful for the weather now, she had a better view of his eyes without the glasses in front of them. She had a feeling he hid behind them in an effort to make the world see him differently than he saw himself. He was so unsure of himself, especially at times like this. When he thought someone was giving him a chance he didn't deserve.

She leaned towards him, purposefully invading his personal space. "I like you, Jon. I like the person you are."

He laughed nervously and took a step back. "You don't know me."

"I know enough. I've seen you with your sister and I've seen you with me." She kept advancing and thankfully he stopped retreating. "You're a good man."

His eyes shimmered, as if they full of tears. "No, I'm not."

Instead of arguing with him, Lynnlee stood up on her tiptoes and gently pressed her lips against his. At first he stiffened, but after a moment, she felt his arms come around her and he kissed her back. He pulled away from her, his slight frame shuddering under her hands. She looked up at his face and found his eyes were shut but tears were still leaking out from underneath his lashes. The tremors were sobs he was refusing to release.

"Jon," Lynnlee put both of her hands on his face, wiping away the tears, "what's wrong?"

"I don't deserve this," he whispered. "I don't deserve you."

Lynnlee smiled, even though his eyes were still closed. "Then aren't we fortunate that sometimes we get what we don't deserve."

* * *

Amy stepped back and took a look at her handiwork. She had to admit, it looked great. The Wayne ballroom had been turned into a gothic space fitting for any of Anne Rice's vampires. Elaborate wrought iron candelabra's were stationed intermittently through the room. She had hung large gas lanterns from the ceiling (no small feat since the ceiling was domed) with fishing line, giving the appearance that they were floating in midair. The windows were draped in thick black velvet curtains while the walls were done the same way only in red velvet.

But her pride and joy was the low structure that took up the center of the room. It was very easy to make, just four slabs of black granite sealed tightly. It was filled with water that Amy dyed black and set a large quantity of floating candles into the trough. It look far better in reality than it had in her mind. She heard a door slam and voices in the main hallway. It was either Jon and Lynnlee or Bruce and Alfred. Either way, she wanted someone to see the ballroom. However, when she reached the hallway, it was Bruce who stormed past her without a word.

Amy turned to Alfred, who looked just as stormy faced. "What's the matter?"

Alfred hung up his coat and shut the door with sharp snap. "With Master Bruce or with me?"

"I would settle for either one."

"Master Bruce has just discovered that the woman he was going to ask to accompany him to the party is coming with someone else."

"He waited until today? He should know women need more time than less than a week's notice."

Alfred gave her a tight smile. "A lesson he has regretfully learned."

Amy crossed her arms, preparing the tirade that she knew was coming. "Okay, Bruce is dateless, not a horrible travesty for the richest guy in Gotham. What's the matter with you?"

"Your brother is getting too cozy with my niece."

Luckily, she had been expecting this conversation and was ready for it. "And what would you have me do? Enforce a six inch rule? Chaperone them?"

"I don't care if your brother has decided to play nice while he's here-"

"Just as long as he's not playing with your niece."

"I don't want him near my niece."

Amy knew protectiveness when she saw it and sympathized with the older man. It had been just that emotion that brought her from California to Gotham. "Okay, I'm sure we can come to some understanding on this issue." Amy walked around the staircase and sat down on one of the carpeted steps. Alfred followed her and sat down next to her. "Have you talked to Lynnlee about this?"

"I've tried. She so stubborn."

Amy grinned. "I wonder where she got that from."

"That stubbornness saved her life."

"What?"

"She never told you?"

Amy shook her head.

"When she was eight, she was diagnosed with leukemia. Thomas Wayne, Bruce's father, flew her and my sister from England to here and treated her himself. He said it was an advanced stage of the cancer and he didn't know if she would make it. But she was too stubborn to give up. She recovered within three years and sometimes she would fly back here or Mr. Wayne would fly over to England for check ups. She was declared cancer free at the age of seventeen. Nothing has been able to hold her back since then."

"She sounds like a formidable woman."

"She is."

Amy remained quiet for a heartbeat before speaking again. "What makes you think that anything I do or you do is going to deter her from being around Jon?"

Alfred rubbed a hand over his tired face. "I know better. I was just hoping you could use that genius mind of yours to come up with an answer."

"The only answer I have is to wait and see what happens. If it's any consolation to you, I have kept tabs on my brother when he's out of my sight. As thrilled as I am about this turn around in his behavior, I still have this thought at the back of my mind that it's too good to be true. That I couldn't have him back this easily. But then again, why not? Sometimes, good things can happen."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, listening to the steady rain. Steady rain?

Amy straightened. "Are they still out there in this rain?"

Both her and Alfred jumped up and lunged for the front door, whipping it open. Amy had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep a laugh from bubbling out. Jon and Lynnlee were both standing in the entrance way, dripping wet, with their arms around each other, kissing. It took them a few seconds to realize the door was open and they had an audience before they jumped apart.

Lynnlee was the first to recover. "We were just…keeping each other warm while we waited for someone to answer the door."

Amy had to lean on the door, silent laughter shaking her complete body. Jon looked like the proverbial kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"The door happened to be unlocked," Alfred snapped back.

Lynnlee shrugged slightly and carefully squeezed past her uncle, who followed close on her heels down the hallway. Amy turned her focus back her brother, who oddly enough had his head down, hands in his pockets. She felt the laughter drain out of her.

"Jon, what's the matter?"

"Nothing."

Amy stepped out of the house and shut the door. "You know that doesn't work with me. What's going on?"

He finally looked up at her, a weary sadness in his eyes. "Lynnlee wants me to go to this masquerade with her."

"Oh, that's wonderful."

He shook his head. "No, not really."

"Why not? Afraid you'll have some fun."

A deadly serious look came across his face. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of. She already has her costume."

"I'm sorry but I'm failing to see horror in this right now unless you're about to tell me she's dressing up like Dr. Phil."

He laughed slightly. "No, no, not Dr. Phil." Then the seriousness returned. "She's dressing up as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. And guess who she wants to dress up as the Scarecrow?"

Amy looked back at the door and then refocused on Jon. "I thought she knew."

"She does! You'll never believe this. She thinks it'll be 'good therapy' for me."

Amy watched her brother pace around the front stoop of the Manor. At first, she thought that Lynnlee was crazy for even suggesting something like this but possibly, it made sense.

"I think it's great idea."

He stopped dead, mid-step and stared at her. "You can't be serious."

"Wasn't that your whole philosophy? Face your fears head on. Deal with them up front and personal. Besides, I can almost guarantee no one else will have the same costume as yours."

"This isn't a joke, Amy."

"I know," Amy reached out and laid a hand on his arm. "I'm not kidding though. I think you should consider doing this."

Jon shook his head again and turned away from her. "I don't think I can. I don't want to risk your's and Lynnlee's safety like that."

"You know what's best in this situation, Jon. Whatever you decide, I'll stand by you." Amy twisted the door knob and started to step into the house when Jon spoke up again.

"I know I haven't told you in a very long time but," he turned and looked at her directly,

"I love you."

Amy smiled broadly. He was right, it had been over a year and half since he last said those words to her. "I love you too, Jon. Here's the real question, do you love Lynnlee?"

He huffed out a sigh. "I'm standing out in the cold, soaking wet and contemplating dressing up as a scarecrow for her."

Amy laughed and nodded her head as she stepped back into the entrance way of the Manor. Yeah, that was love.

* * *

Bruce didn't know if Rachael had asked the new DA, Harvey Dent, to come with her out of spite or genuine interest. Either way, it didn't matter, he was still bothered by it. The only thing that bothered him more was Amy. They were falling into a routine, every morning of sitting at the breakfast table and watching the news. It was starting to feel eerily normal. Amy had weaseled her way into his life effortlessly and perhaps that was what took the sting out of Rachael's refusal.

He had skipped dinner and instead spent the time researching this Joker character. Nothing was coming up on him. It was as if the man never existed. Perhaps Bruce would have to ask Crane if any of his patients in Arkham would match up with the Joker's antics. Of course, he couldn't do it as Bruce Wayne and Batman might send him bring back the nightmares that Amy said were so horrible. Perhaps he could say something to Amy. He was starting to get the sneaking suspicion she had her guesses about his alter ego.

It was close to ten o'clock when he finally found her in the ballroom. She was kneeling on the floor in front of what look liked a black stone coffin, tossing rose petals into the black water. He had to admit, the ballroom looked fantastic. He wondered if she stayed under the budget Alfred gave her.

"It looks great."

She turned, slightly surprised. "Thank you. Are you, uh, doing better?"

"Yes, I am. Sorry about that."

She shrugged and put one more handful of petals into the water before standing up. "Everyone is entitled to their bad days. So, what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if your brother might know who this Joker guy is."

She smiled coyly. "You were wondering or," she dropped her voice to a whisper, "Batman was wondering?"

He whispered back. "What makes you think I'm Batman?" And then he realized his mistake in the "I got you" gleam of Amy's eyes. She got him to drop his voice and allow the whispering to make it raspy. "How did you know?"

"I had a lot of time to put little details together."

"Do your brother know?"

She looked almost offended he would ask. "Absolutely not. Do you realize what it would do to his mind if he knew you were Batman?"

"So no one else knows?"

She gave him that smart aleck grin again. "Yes, Bruce. The entire social network I travel in knows your secret. Trust me," she turned serious again, "I know what it's like to keep secrets. Everyone is entitled to their own. I'm sorry I figured it out. I probably shouldn't have been thinking so deeply on the matter."

"No harm done, I suppose. Considering you keep this to yourself. "

"I can do that." Amy looked around the ballroom. "Anything you want changed or added?"

Bruce looked around the room, wall draped in red, window covered with black. The candles would add the perfect ambiance to the room. The little pond creation Amy had created was eye catching and subtle at the same time. The white candles and blood red rose petals stood out in stark contrast to the black water. "It's beautiful."

She gave him a relieved smile. He hadn't realized it meant so much to her. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"Sure."

Bruce wasn't sure of her reaction but he thought, what did he have to lose? "Would you be my date to the Masquerade?"

"Is this to get back at your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend." Rachel had made that clear by coming with Dent.

"Is this to get back at your friend who happens to be a girl?"

Bruce had to laugh at Amy's tenacity. "No. Not at all." And oddly enough, that was the truth. It was just another way that Amy had put herself into his life.

"Well, I did want to see my brother and Lynnlee together, all giggly and clumsily in love. Alright but I don't have a costume and not a whole a lot of time to get one."

"I'm sure we can work something out."

"Can I come as Batwoman?"

Bruce looked like he was really thinking about it. "Uh, no."

Amy shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

"You're taking this very well."

"My brother was the Scarecrow. You learn to cope with these things.

* * *

Author's Note: Please review! I am begging. :-)


	12. Masquarade

**Author's Note:** Some fluff...some action...this chapter should make a range of people happy! Show me some love with the reviews!

**Chapter Twelve: Masquerade**

_True is false . . .  
Who is who . . .?  
Curl of lip . . .  
Swirl of gown__ . . .  
Ace of hearts . . .  
Face of clown . . . _

_-Masquerade, The Phantom of the Opera_

Jon took a chance asking Lynnlee to go into his and Amy's apartment and getting the duffel bag that was tucked into the closet. She had done it, without question, even asking if he needed anything else from the place. He was thankful she didn't look through it. He would have a hard time explaining the four fear toxin canisters that were still in there. Which brought him to an interesting crossroads…what was he going to do with the stuff?

_Keep it. You may need it. _

"For what?"

_There's always a calm before the storm. _

He opened his mouth to say something but quickly snapped it shut. He shouldn't be talking to Scarecrow, least of all now.

_Aw, come on now, Jonny, there's no harm in talking._

No, but there was a harm in listening. He reached into the bag and pulled out the straitjacket that had served as full length coat that night in the Narrows.

_Go ahead, try it on. _

He was so used to doing what he was told by that raspy voice in his head that he found himself in the jacket before he realized he put it on. Rummaging through the bag again, he came up with the burlap mask. As he held it in his hands, looking at the off centered eye holes and crudely stitched up mouth, for the first time it looked frightening to him.

_No, Jon. Not frightening. You made it, remember? To give you someone to talk to since your sister wouldn't._

"She couldn't. Not after…"

_After what?_

"You know."

_Ah yes, the man in the back seat of her car. They say California is known for it's nut cases. She survived though._

"Barely. She hit a telephone pole at forty miles an hour." It had been warning to him from Ra's al Ghul, showing him that al Ghul knew where his sister was and that she was his soft spot. He had tried to eliminate her from his life in an effort to protect her from the man he had to become to do what al Ghul wanted.

_And just when being alone became too much for you, I showed up. _

"But I'm not alone anymore."

_Ah yes, you're still putting your faith in Amy and Lynnlee. They won't save you. They won't be with you forever. They don't know you inside and out like I do. I will never leave you, Jon. You're stuck with me till the end. Put the mask on and be who you were meant to be._

He turned the rough material over in hands some more. He could do this. He could handle Scarecrow but not by himself. He tossed the mask on the bed and started to pull the straitjacket off when someone knocked on his door. He was about to ask who it was when they announced themselves.

"It's Amy."

"Come in."

She opened the door and immediately noticed the jacket as he dropped it over the mask, hiding it from her view.

"Nice," she commented. "Though I would stay away Alfred when you wear that. I'm afraid he might be inclined to strap you up in it just so you keep your hands off Lynnlee."

He frowned. "I hadn't thought about that."

"I'm teasing, Jon. Don't look so serious."

"I'm sorry," he rubbed his forehead. "I guess I'm just nervous that's all."

"Is it anything in particular?"

_Don't tell her._

"No, nothing in particular." Jon couldn't believe he had just lied to his sister and that she looked at him like she had believed him.

"Well, if you want to talk about anything, you know where I am. And let's try to have some fun tomorrow night. Put everything behind us and start fresh."

"Sounds great."

"Great." She gave him a quick hug. "Night, Jon."

"Night. Oh wait, I forgot to ask you. What are you going as tomorrow night?"

Amy shrugged. "I don't know what you would call it. It's just black pants and tall boots with some sort of black and red diamond pattern corset over the typical billowy white shirt."

"And your mask?"

"Plain white with black edging around the eyes and the mouth. I guess it's like a female jester. Bruce is dressing up like Henry the Eighth."

Jon smiled. "You're just going to be a walking harlequin."

"I guess so." She gave him a cocky smile. "It doesn't beat a scarecrow but what can I do? Get some sleep."

"You too."

Amy was walking out the door when she let out a surprised noise. Jon turned to see Lynnlee poking around the corner of the door frame.

"Jon, you have a guest," Amy said, giving him a wink before leaving the room. He felt his face flush in response to her insinuation.

"I hope I'm not keeping you up," Lynnlee was saying.

"No, not at all." He shoved the straitjacket and mask back into the bag and closed it up. "What can I do for you?"

"I haven't seen you all night and just wanted to check on you."

"Oh." He was still getting used to another person being concerned with his whereabouts. It was expected from his sister, but Lynnlee did it because she cared. He was still trying to wrap his mind around it.

"Did I bring the right bag?"

"Yes, you did. Thank you." They had spent many hours together in the last few days but it did nothing to quell his nervousness around her. He was terribly frightened to lower his defenses, let her in and then have Scarecrow take over and hurt her. He couldn't live with himself if anything happened to her, especially by his hand. She looked so fragile, looking up at him with expectant eyes.

_So pretty…_

"_No," _Jonathan thought as strongly as he could. "_You have no business being here." _

_You're right. Have your fun so I can have some tomorrow. _

He wanted the voice to go away so badly and the only thing that seemed to work was being close to Lynnlee. Without giving any warning, he grabbed a hold of her and kissed her much rougher than in the previous few days. He could feel her shock but she quickly overcame it and matched his force. He had to pull away before this got out of control but Lynnlee had latched onto him in a desperate hold. There was only one way to break the kiss without pushing her away and hurting her feelings, he turned his head.

Lynnlee rested her forehead on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. It was my fault."

She laughed slightly. "You make it sound like you did something wrong."

He laughed too. "You're the one who apologized."

"I guess I did." She pulled back slightly. "I'm just…afraid of you leaving after tomorrow night and then I'll never see you again."

He pulled her back to him. "I won't leave without saying good bye."

"Promise?"

He closed his eyes and lied for the second time that night. "Promise."

* * *

Amy tried to watch her brother carefully without making it obvious what she was doing. She met Rachel Dawes, Bruce's first choice as a companion for the evening, who seemed to do nothing but scowl at her. Amy had watched Bruce and Rachel exchange words, heated on Rachel's side and disarming on Bruce's from what she could see from the body language. When she asked Bruce, he had merely brushed it aside, saying Rachel was concerned it was Jon in the Scarecrow costume but Bruce had just said it was Lynnlee's new boyfriend and not to worry so much. It didn't look like Rachel was following Bruce's advice.

"Aren't you enjoying yourself?"

Amy looked up at Bruce. "Yes, I am."

"Then look like it."

"I'm just worried-"

"I know." He put an arm around her waist and maneuvered her around the throng of people over to where Lynnlee, in her blue checkered dress, ruby slippers and ruby colored mask, and Jon, in his full scarecrow regalia, were standing. "Jon."

"Bruce," her brother's voice, slightly altered by the material, replied.

"You doing alright?"

"Yes."

"Tell your sister to stop worrying. She's bringing down my party."

Amy watched Bruce move off to mingle but she stayed behind, smirking behind her white and black mask. She told him she didn't want to be hanging on his arm all evening for the chance someone would put her blue eyes and the matching ones in the burlap sack together and make the announcement the Crane twins were in attendance. He had graciously agreed to that stipulation.

"You're not really worried are you?"

Amy shrugged. "Just a little I guess." She looked him over, the burlap sack over his head, the straitjacket buckled halfway over his suit. "It's just really freaky to see you dressed like this."

"Wow." Lynnlee said. "You want to see freaky, check out the guy who just walked in."

Amy turned to see a man dressed in a purple suit and white painted face enter the ballroom. It didn't take her long to realize who it was. She searched the room for Bruce but couldn't find him anywhere. Hopefully he had seen the party crasher and was off to get suited up. A gun shot echoed through the room and all attention was on the new arrival.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen…" he was saying, "we are tonight's entertainment."

Amy turned to Jon. "What should we do?"

"Stall until I get back."

She watched him turn and sneak out one of the hidden side entrances of the ballroom. Amy didn't know what else to do. The Joker was walking around, ripping people's masks off and asking where Harvey Dent was. Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw Rachel make a move to step out from the terrified crowd. Before she knew what she doing, Amy had beat the assistant district attorney to the empty ballroom floor.

"What do you want?" she brazenly asked.

His eyes focused on her immediately and Amy was thankful for the mask covering her face. She didn't want him to know she was afraid.

"Haven't you been paying, uh, attention?"

Amy held her ground as he stalked towards her. "Sorry, the gunshot threw me."

He gave her a "uh" before repeating his question. "I'm looking for Harvey Dent."

"Haven't seen him."

His eyes narrowed and before she could stop him, he swiped the mask off her face. "You're that sister of the psychiatrist gone Scarecrow." He looked around the sea of masked faces. "So where is big brother?"

"Actually," a raspy voice answered, "she was born first."

Amy watched as Jon emerged from the crowd and her worry of the Scarecrow taking over overtook her. His gait was jerky but confident and his voice had more of a metallic rasp to it. She realized he must have put the gas mask back in the burlap sack and that meant he was armed with those canisters of fear toxin.

"You know where Harvey is?" Joker asked.

Jon shook his head.

The Joker shrugged. "Ah well."

Amy thought she was forgotten but a flash of purple went past her and she felt the cold steel blade of a knife against her throat.

"Tell you what," Joker was saying, "you and your…uh, little sister come with me and I forget about Harvey for a little while."

Amy tried to nod to her brother, letting him know to go ahead with the plan but the knife dug into her throat. Apparently, he got the message.

"Fine," Jon agreed.

"Excellent."

Amy felt the knife leave her throat and she was pushed roughly. Without thinking, instinct kicked in and she spun around and pushed the Joker back. All fear was gone out of her, only anger remained. How dare he walk into this home and take away her and Jon's peace. She held his gaze and tried to hide the shiver that ran down her spine at the cold, dark eyes that stared back at her. He wasn't just insane…he was coherently insane.

"Got a little fight in ya," he said, walking in a wide circle around her like a predator. "I like that, you little Harlequin. Maybe that's what I'll call you…Hrm…Harley Quinn. You like that?"

Amy scowled and walked away from him, purposefully turning her back on him. Jon was watching the whole scene, he would give her a heads up if Joker tried anything. When she was close enough to her brother, she whispered, "Let's get out here before he hurts anyone."

Jon didn't say anything but turned on his heel and walked through the parted crowd at a fast clip. Amy had to almost jog to keep up with him and then she realized why. She could hear Lynnlee calling after them to stop. The front doors of the Manor opened and there was a large, unmarked van idling by the steps. Where was Bruce?

"You sure about this?" Jon whispered.

Amy saw he had taken the mask off, his worried blue eyes fixed on hers. "Don't have much of a choice."

"I'm sorry."

She forced a small smile. "We'll get out of it." As she climbed into the back of the van, she could still hear Lynnlee's voice. By the time she turned around, Lynnlee was at the van, grabbing at Jon's straitjacket, a jumbled string of disbelieving words and pleads came pouring out her mouth. Amy could see the pain in her brother's face as he tried to disentangle himself from her grip.

"Lynnlee, no. You stay here."

Amy reached out, trying to pull her brother into the van and away from Lynnlee. But one of the straps had wrapped around Lynnlee's arm.

"Hey, if Dorothy wants her Scarecrow," Joker came up behind the two struggling people and pushed Lynnlee roughly into the van dragging Jon with her, "who I am to deny her?"

The van door slid shut and Joker jumped into the driver's seat. "And there he is."

Amy leaned over the passenger seat and saw the moving shadow that had to be Batman. Finally, she breathed a sigh of relief. But Joker threw the van into drive and pointed the shotgun at the advancing figuring. Amy grabbed a hold of the steering wheel and yanked it just as Joker fired the shot gun. Yelling a curse, he shoved the gun backward, nailing Amy directly in the face, knocking her out cold.


	13. Coulrophobia

**Chapter Thirteen: Coulrophobia**

_Coulrophobia: an abnormal or exaggerated fear of clowns_

Jon didn't know where they were exactly. Judging from the buildings, he was finding himself back in the Narrows at an abandoned warehouse. How very typical. When the door to the van opened, he told Lynnlee to wrap one of the straps around her arm again because he needed to carry Amy, who was still unconscious, and he didn't want any of them to be separated in the warehouse. He felt her pressed against his back as they made their way into the building.

Joker flipped a switch and the lights slowly flickered on. "Beds towards the back, Doc."

Jon moved quickly past Joker, not wanting to deal with him or any of his cronies at the moment. All he wanted was to check Amy and make sure nothing was broken or severely damaged. Hopefully he would be able to wake her up.

"Oh, and Doc?"

Jon stopped and slowly turned. "What?"

"Your sister tries something like that again, it'll be the other end of the gun she'll deal with." He flipped open a switchblade, the flickering florescent lights causing the blade to glitter. "If she's lucky. Capisce?"

Jon didn't say anything but he felt Lynnlee shiver against him. Keeping his silence, since it was the only thing he could possibly keep, he made his way purposefully towards the back of the building. There were various choices of bedding: cots, hammocks and mattresses. He would have to come up with a better plan but for now, he picked one of the larger, cleaner looking mattresses and laid Amy down on it. There was a large purple bruise already blossoming on her cheek. She would have a black eye by tomorrow that set his blood boiling. Gently, he applied pressure to her cheekbones, making sure nothing was broken in her face. Amy's hand came up and grabbed his wrist almost immediately.

"That hurts."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he rocked back on his heels. "You should see it."

She groaned slightly and threw an arm over her forehead. She hadn't even opened her eyes yet. "Do you know where we are?"

"Not exactly. I know we're in the Narrows."

"Where's Lynnlee?"

"Right here," Lynnlee answered.

"How do you feel?"

Amy snorted and winced. "I have a headache."

Jon bit back a surge of annoyance. "I know that. Anything else?"

"No," she sighed tiredly. "I'll be alright."

He took her word on it and focused on Lynnlee. She was standing on the other side of the mattress, rubbing her bare arms and looking terribly out of place in her Dorothy get up. Some of her reddish-brown hair had come loose from her braids and she looked so horribly lost. He shrugged out of his straitjacket and laid it over Amy before taking off his suit jacket and wrapped it around Lynnlee. It wasn't much but it would have to do for now.

_You need me, Jonny. _

Jon sank down onto the foot of the mattress and suppressed a groan. _Not now, not now-_

_Especially now, Jon. How are you going to protect two women and yourself from this madman? You really think you can handle this yourself? Amy is out of her element and the other one, well, look at her, she's a mess. You know this world. You survived among the likes of Falcone and just think where he is right now thanks to us. Sitting in some padded cell in what's left of Arkham using our name as his daily mantra. _

_You're name, _Jon emphasized, _not mine. _

_Our name, Jon. We are irrevocably tied together. Now, let me help you. _

Jon sat there for a few moments and didn't say anything, out loud or in his mind. Scarecrow was still ever present, like he was leaning on the mental bars that Jon was using to keep him in check. He did make a valid point…how was he suppose to protect both Amy and Lynnlee? Amy was enough of a fighter that she would be able to defend herself better than Lynnlee could but that would mean he would be putting his sister second.

_Better come up with a solution fast. _

Jon looked up to see Joker making his way through the various sleeping arrangements with a purpose. Glancing behind him, he saw Lynnlee had crawled behind him and put herself protectively next to Amy. Maybe she would be able to defend herself and he was worrying needlessly.

"Evening, Doc." He made a sound like his teeth were hurting him before continuing. "Settling in, I see."

_Come on, Jonny. Stand up for yourself or at least let me do it. _

"See, this is what I need from you," Joker was saying, "I want some of that, uh, stuff you gassed the city with. You know, just to play around with."

"You don't 'play around' with it." Jon was surprised to find himself standing up, he didn't remember doing that. The almost growl that had issued from his throat took him by surprise as well. Scarecrow was still on the fringes of his mind but he could feel the approval from the alter ego. "What exactly do you want it for?"

Joker made that clicking sound again with his mouth before shrugging. "The same reason you made it."

"Because someone paid me."

"No," he shook his head, "no, that's not why you made it. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you were less than respected by your peers. You needed the, uh, leverage on them. So you concocted this little cocktail of yours to plant some respect in these nothings that failed to see you for who you are. Am I right?" He paused but Jon kept his mouth shut so Joker continued. "And that's what I want it for. So these…imbeciles that call themselves gangsters will stop and listen. I need to put some, uh, fear into them."

"I make this for you and then what?"

He held up his hands, palms out towards Jon. "You're free to go. I don't mind you running around Gotham, gassing whoever you please. You'll probably get the Batman off my back for a little, hm?"

"I want both of them," Jon motioned behind him to Lynnlee and Amy, "out of here. They have nothing to do with our business."

He seemed to think about it for a moment but then pursed his scared mouth. "No, sorry. See, I need assurances that you're going to come through for me. But, just to show you that I am willing to compromise, here's what I'll do for you. You pick which one you want me to take when I go out on my, uh, errands."

"No, they both stay with me."

Joker sighed loudly but then moved so fast Jon didn't have time to move. He felt the cold steel of a blade pressed against his cheek and he was staring into the cold, dark eyes of the psychopath. He hated to admit it but he was in over his head on this one. He knew crazy when he saw it and there would be no rationalizing with this man. Joker only did things that made sense to him which meant Jon wouldn't be able to talk him down from anything. Nothing aside from a heavy dose of medication was going to make this man even remotely logically.

"How about this," Joker was saying, "I cut up your pretty face so you won't need that mask. It really is amazing the work I can do with a blade." He giggled. "I can even give you scars that'll look like stitches, hm?"

Jon closed his eyes in an effort to get a reign over the anger that was surging through him. He was so certain he would be able to put this kind of life behind him. He was so tired of being pushed around and threatened. First al Ghul and now this guy. But he had to do something to try to get Lynnlee and Amy out of there. They were less equipped for this type of living than he was.

_Well, Jonny boy? _

Jon sighed, blowing most of the air out of his body. _You give me control back when I ask for it, understand?_

_Of course. _

Jon opened his eyes and felt the chaotic energy take over his mind and muscles. Scarecrow was elated with being released after a long confinement and was chomping at the bit to act out. He was buzzing with the rush of freedom that the steel blade didn't even register in his mind though it was still making Jon nervous. Then he realized something, Jon was still very present, as though he was standing next to Scarecrow. No longer were they switching places, one dominant, one submissive. They were equals, bonded and working together.

Joker's eyes lost their coldness and glittered with excitement. "And there… you… are."

"Here's the deal," Jon said, a familiar edge to his voice, "you set us up with better living conditions than this, complete with a lab to make the toxin and I'll talk to them about coming with you on your errands." Jon allowed his mouth to twist into a smirk. "Capisce?"

* * *

Amy sat in the back of the van once again as it made its way through the less than savory places in Gotham. They had been pent up in that warehouse for the last six days and finally she was able to step foot outside and breathe fresh air. Of course, she had almost choked on the rancid smell of being so close to the river but it was still better than the stale air she had been breathing in the building.

Jon demands had been surprisingly met. There was an upper floor to the warehouse that could only be accessed by a spiral staircase in one of the back corners. It was a fairly large space and the lab had already been set up for Jon. They had lugged one of the mattresses and an old blanket up the stairs and Amy, not wanting to take another mattress up the stairs, settled for another blanket that she used as a hammock. She had kept assuring Jon that she could take of herself and pushed him to look after Lynnlee. Thankfully, that's what he spent his free time doing.

Joker was sitting across from Amy in the back of van while one of the henchmen in a clown mask was driving. She felt him staring at her but she refused to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. They had just finished making the last supply run for Jon. She knew a little about psychopharmacology, mostly from him studying it in college but there were still elements that left her confused. He seemed to know what he was doing though and had assured her everything was going to work out just fine. But he had a strange gleam in his eye when he had said it and she was starting to wonder if "Scarecrow" had made his appearance.

The only thing that kept hope alive in her was seeing him with Lynnlee. He wouldn't let her out of his sight and she was never more than an arm's reach away from him. Even though he had turned completely into strictly business mode, he still treated Lynnlee with the gentleness that Amy had come to expect. Maybe she wasn't the one to rescue her brother from himself, maybe it was Lynnlee. The thought brought the sting of tears to her eyes.

"Hey, Harley."

Amy tensed her jaw. "What, Jack?" She had started calling him calling him Jack because he reminded her more of a Jack-in-the-box than a Joker. Joker made him sound like he had a sense of humor, was fun and wily. Jack-in-the-box made him sound more sinister, and random, like the threat he really was. She figured if he wouldn't call her by her proper name, why should she return the favor?

"You want to know how I got these scars?"

"Not particularly."

"Aw…you're hurting my feelings."

Amy swung her head and finally looked at him, his scarred mouth twisted into a smug grin. "You know what I think? I think that no matter what story you decide to tell me will be a lie. Your mind is so twisted around itself, it's choked out the truth. You couldn't recall what really happened if you had to. So no, I don't want to know how you got those scars because ultimately, you don't know how you got them and I'm tired of listening to lies."

He glared at her for a minute before breaking out into a laugh. "I like you."

Amy swallowed the bile that had risen up into her throat. "I'm thrilled."

"You know what it is?" He twirled one of his many knives around his fingers, the metal flashing and glittering under the dim streetlights they were passing under. "You get me. You're the first one to actually get me."

Amy leaned her head back against the side of the van and closed her eyes wearily. What was so frightening was, he was right. She did understand him on some level. She understood his random need for power. She could predict when he was getting restless and when he was content with watching the news and listening to all the precautions the police had set up in response to his latest scheme. She couldn't help but feel like she was drowning, always one breath away from death.

She reached into one of the boxes that they had just picked up from some Russian dealer and pulled out one of the wooden dolls that was in it. She recognized it as the traditional nesting doll, the kind that held eight to ten other little carved dolls. She opened the large one and found three more before the final one contained a small plastic bag with a fine white powder in it. Jon had told her this was the hallucinogen that caused people to literally face their fears.

Looking up, Joker was watching her like she was prey and nothing more. She idly wondered what his fear was. What would happen if he was sprayed with her brother's fear toxin? She felt herself slip further under that dark water that had closed over her head and the desire to gas the man in front of her just out of sheer curiosity overtook her. Not only was she starting to understand him now, she was beginning to understand the draw her brother had to the power granted him by this toxin. Everything was starting to make warped sense and Amy was starting to not care about the distorted reality.


	14. A Dose of Insanity

**Author's Note: **This was a very interesting chapter to write for two reasons. 1: I wrote it backwards...last scene first, first scene last. I don't think I've ever done that before with my stories. And 2: I have some serious fluff in this chapter (with some intense action as well). Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it! You're reviews have just been absolutely wonderful and please, if you haven't reviewed yet, please do! And if you have reviewed, thank you thank you thank you!

**Chapter Fourteen: A Dose of Insanity**

Lynnlee spent a lot of time staring out of the industrial window of the second floor of the warehouse. It was the only place that Jon allowed her to wander around without him. Of course, a fifteen foot by eighteen foot area was still a far cry from freedom but it was all she had to enjoy. Amy had done some exploring on her own (unbeknownst to Jon, she was sure) and came up some discarded clothes. A run through the makeshift shower, Lynnlee was finally able to shed the Dorothy costume for a pair of khaki shorts and tank top. Of course, it was now November so she had taken to wearing Jon's straitjacket as a coat. She was getting used to walking on the cold concrete in her bare feet. She just couldn't bear the thought of wearing red, sparkling heels with second hand shorts and a straitjacket. It was just too weird, ironically enough.

"You alright?"

Lynnlee felt Jon's arms slip around her waist and she leaned back against him. "Fine. Bored but fine. I think the real question is how are you?"

He released a long sigh. "Tired."

"Then why don't you get some rest now that we have some peace and quiet."

"Because," he pressed his lips against the side of her neck, "we have some peace and quiet."

Lynnlee giggled at the sensation and squirmed out of his grasp. "Why Dr. Crane, I do believe your intentions towards me are less than honorable."

He was grinning widely. "My apologies if it's taken this long for you to realize that." His smile faded slightly. "I suppose this isn't the best place to wax romantic, is it?"

She only retreated a couple steps and sat down on the edge of a table that was acting as a makeshift lab station. "Why not?"

"Because we're at a warehouse in the Narrows and the only reason that we're not leaving is because a deranged psychopath has my sister with him."

"It sounds like a romantic distraction is exactly what we need then."

She watched him walk over to the table and fiddle with the Bunsen burner and metal canisters. An almost glazed look came over his eyes. Even in the moonlight she noticed the sparkle had gone out and the blue became almost icy. The transformation had happened a couple times since they had been there. Amy thought it was the Scarecrow personality taking over but Lynnlee had shrugged it off as being too psychological to be true. But soon she realized there was no other explanation for it. The detached look always seemed to disappear though when Jon would focus on her. She didn't understand it but she would try or do anything to keep Jon, not Scarecrow, with her.

"Jon?"

"Hm."

She reached over and tugged on his dress shirt a couple of times until he came to stand next to her. She carefully removed his glasses and set them down next to her on the table. His eyes were still that faraway blue. She never put much stock in the whole strength of the mind over the body mentality until she met Jon. He caused her to think, use logic more than she had in the past. And in return, she showed him that feeling was just as important as thinking. She still had a hold on his shirt and she used that to pull him closer to her.

She pressed her lips to his with no reaction. It didn't concern her greatly, it had happened before. She was persistent though, running her fingers through his hair and across his face. She felt the change in him immediately. His tense stature seemed to collapse in on itself and she was on the receiving end of a border-line brutal kiss. He pulled her almost off the table in an effort to bring her closer to him. He broke the kiss and Lynnlee found herself breathless, gulping in air. How did he do that to her? Thankfully his eyes had returned to the bright blue she was used to look into.

"I love you." His breath hitched, as if he surprised himself with the announcement. It didn't come as a surprise to her though, and she smoothed back the hair that she had tousled during their kiss.

"I love you too, Jon."

His head fell heavily on her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. Lynnlee gave him a few seconds before giving his shirt a couple little tugs again.

"Now, I want to know more about those less than honorable intentions you have towards me."

* * *

One minute Amy was day dreaming of gassing the Joker and imagining what the reaction would be, and the next she found herself thrown against the back of the driver's chair. There were no seat belts in the back, of course, and she hit her head enough to daze her for a moment. Boxes had tumbled down around her, parts of the dolls rolled around on the metal floor.

"That's it," Joker was saying, righting himself as well, "I'm driving next time."

Amy couldn't figure out what in the world they had hit and neither could the driver apparently. The windshield was completely covered with a black material. Amy stared at it, wondering if it was possible…had Batman found them? Her heart gave a joyful little kick at the thought of Bruce being well enough to track them down. Perhaps her throwing the Joker's aim off spared him from being shot at the masquerade after all. The driver tried to put the van in reverse and hit the gas but when he did that, the van backed up a few feet and then listed to the side.

"Get out!" Amy shouted. Apparently, Joker knew what was going on and had ripped open the side door of the van, disappearing quickly from view. Amy tried to scramble after him but all she could see was the tops of streetlights and then the starry night beyond them. The van was flipping over and she realized if she were to be thrown out of the side door, the vehicle would most likely crush her under its roll. Instead, she slipped her arm through the seat belt on the driver's side and wrapped her arms around the back of the bucket seat. At the last minute, she pushed the driver's head down so it rested on his hands that were still gripping the steering wheel. It was the closest thing to a crash position she could get him in.

The van rolled onto its top, side, wheels and then came to rest on it's other side. Amy moved her arms and legs and was thankful to find nothing broken. As she released her grip on the chair, she patted the shoulder of the driver.

"You alright?"

He ripped the mask off and she could see some blood trickling down from his hair line. "Yeah, I think so. Just a little…dazed. You?"

Amy was starting to feel lightheaded. "Yeah, just dazed."

"I think I hit the Batman."

Amy untangled her arm and tried to push the boxes off of her. "I would sooner assume that he hit us." As she moved the boxes, it felt like dust was rising up into her face. She swiped the air in front of her and found not only was she lightheaded but the fringes of her sight were slowly rippling. She was dimly aware of some scuffling going on outside the van, she could hear the Joker's maniacal laughter and then it suddenly cut off. The intense drive to get out of the vehicle overtook her and she flailed against the boxes. More of that powdery dust flew into the air as she struggled to get out the sliding door.

The entire inside of the van shifted, warping and moving on its own. It only made her lightheadedness worse and now her stomach was rolling. She felt like she was on a ship in a stormy sea and she couldn't keep her footing. Shadows started to move and take shape, crawling up the walls and towards her. She had no where to run and panic was starting to build in her chest.

"Amy!"

Someone was calling her name but her mind was too wrapped up in staying away from the shadows that had grown talons and were trying to grab her. Suddenly, a black shape appeared in doorway above her. She blinked several times but the image remained the same: a fire breathing bat.

"Amy," it said, "give me your hand!"

She pressed herself against the boxes, trying desperately to hide from the demon that knew her name. "Get away from me!"

But it didn't. Instead, it swooped down from the open door onto her, wrapping its claws around her. She tried to fight it, kicking, screaming and biting but its hold was too strong. It kept repeating her name and she wished it would stop. She screamed at the top of her lungs, begging anyone and anything to come to her rescue. But no one came and the bat demon drug her out of the lopsided van and into the ever-shifting night.

* * *

Jon was enjoying the blessed silence and peace that surrounded him at the moment. He savored these moments as they were coming less and less in his life and he was never certain which one would be his last. Amy was still absent, out with the group picking up the last of the supplies he needed to make the fear toxin. Thankfully all three of them had remained unharmed since that first night here so his worries for her safety were fading. Scarecrow had kept his promise and allowed Jon some control over his actions and words but at times like this, he retreated fully.

Lynnlee shifted in her sleep against him and he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to look at her, it was too painful for him. She was too frail, too beautiful to be in a situation like this. And if it wasn't for him, she would either be on the road, playing with her punk band or back in England with her family. Instead, she was essentially being held captive in a run down warehouse by the river with only him for protection and comfort. It was a poor state of affairs for someone as vibrant as her.

"Jon?"

"Hm?"

Her fingers danced across his face. "I can hear you thinking."

He certainly hoped not. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I thought you were too." She sighed against his neck. "What's wrong?"

"You have to ask?" He felt her withdraw from him slightly and he realized his mistake. He opened his eyes and was faced with the moonlight turning her skin to porcelain, making her look so very breakable. His breath caught in his throat, his mind still reeling from the fact that she was really there, in his arms. The pained look on her face gave his mind the focus it needed. "That's not what I meant. I'm concerned over our circumstances."

The pain slowly ebbed out of her face and her fingers returned to their memorizing of his facial structure. He smiled slightly under the palms of her hands. She seemed fascinated with his cheekbones tonight.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be." He bent his head and kissed her, letting his fingers do some exploring of their own. This was the first time that they were alone together since before the ball and he intended to make good use of the time. He felt her hum in appreciation before they both pulled away from each other. There was another kind of hum off in the distance.

"You heard that too?" she asked.

He listened closer and sure enough, there was a low rumble nearing the warehouse. He knew that sound but from where. Scarecrow made a sudden appearance, screeching about it being the Batman. Jon quickly pushed the alter ego back, taking full control once again. If it was the Batman that meant one thing…Joker had been taken out. But what of Amy? If anyone would know what happened to her, it would be him as much as Jon hated to think about it. Perhaps she was with the Batman, that's how he could have found the warehouse.

"What is that?" Lynnlee asked as the sound grew closer.

"Our salvation."

Both of them jumped up, grabbing at their clothes and scant belongings. They were rushing down the staircase onto the main floor by the time the Batman made his appearance. Jon had to give Scarecrow a slight foothold to keep his knees from buckling. It was just a man, he kept telling himself, it's just a man. Protecting Lynnlee gave him an extra boost of bravery when he found the Batman staring at him. Scarecrow had retreated completely, abandoning him to face his fear himself. With Amy's and Lynnlee's life on the line, he had to remain calm.

"Where's Amy?"

"At Gotham General," the gravelly voice answered. "It's just you two?"

Jon tightened his grip on Lynnlee. "Yes. Is Amy alright?"

"We'll find out."

Fear dissipated completely and anger replaced it. "What do you mean 'we'll find out?'"

Instead of answering, the vigilante turned on his heel and strode out of the warehouse with Jon and Lynnlee hot on his heels. The source of the rumbling was that tank he drove idling by the front door. The cab pulled back revealing the inside of the vehicle.

"Get in."

Jon didn't have to be told twice. Helping Lynnlee climb over the side, he jumped in after her, squeezing into the small space as the cab closed back over them. "What's wrong with Amy?"

"The van she was in was filled with that hallucinogen drug you use in your fear toxin. When it tipped over, the powder went everywhere and she inhaled a lot of it. Any tricks on getting it out of her system as fast as possible would be extremely helpful."

Jon thought about the compound of the gas and the ratio between the drug itself and the chemical mixture that turned it into an aerosol. "She's going to need about four doses of the antidote the hospital has on reserve."

The Batman handed him a cell phone. "Call them and tell them that."


	15. Aftermath

**Author's Note: **So sorry for the long delay...life and so on, unfortunately. I'm trying desperately to finish this story and my Red Eye one before November 1st! Here's hoping to some fast typing fingers!

**The Space Between**

**Chapter Fifteen: Aftermath**

He was used to focusing on other people's fears that he had forgotten what it felt like to experience it first hand. Jonathan was scared, truly, deeply frightened. The insides of Amy's lungs had second degree burns on them from the acidity of the drug she inhaled. Guilt pierced through him along with the fear that she would never recover from this. She had come here to save him, help him. She had left her job, or at least they had given up hope of seeing her come back by now, friends, home and anything else that she had become accustomed to in California for him. And this was the thanks that fate threw at her for her sisterly devotion to him.

Bruce Wayne was more than generous when he had her moved back to the Manor. Despite the extra money it took to set up a hospital room with a private doctor and visiting nurse, it made it easier for Jonathan to stay by her bedside without worrying about the police dragging him back to Arkham with no hope of receiving news of her healing process. He had wanted to thank the billionaire but he never got the chance. All hell had broken loose shortly after the Batman handed the Joker over to the police and Bruce had practically disappeared. Not that Jonathan blamed him for his solitude. His reaction would have been the same.

He watched it all on the local news, with a wide eyed Lynnlee next to him and a very sober Alfred on the fringes of the room. Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes both taken by crooked cops while the Joker had an escape plan already in motion so his stay with Gotham's finest was a very short stay. Dent barely made it out alive. Dawes, not so lucky. True, he had his own issues with the assistant DA, he had even tried to have her killed and kill her himself but something had changed inside of him. That wasn't him who tried to bring her harm, it had been Scarecrow, who was practically gleeful at the news of Dawes' death. Jonathan himself, could only comfort Lynnlee and grieve for the loss of an idealist, for ultimately, that was what he was too.

A hospital exploded, Dent was MIA, there was trouble with two ferry's and a bomb but the Joker was back in Arkham by the end of it all. As if that wasn't enough for them to process through, the Batman was blamed for the deaths of five police officers and Dent himself. Given his own personal experiences with the Batman, Jonathan found it hard to believe that the vigilante would turn on the people he was ultimately helping. It didn't make sense and when he voiced his opinion to Alfred late one night because Amy was still unconscious and Lynnlee was sleeping, the butler gave him an odd, shrewd look before leaving the room. He originally took the lack of response as mere rudeness but on later thought, realized it could have been due to one of two factors: he was upset with the closeness that had sprung up between Jonathan and Lynnlee or the older man knew something more about the whole Batman situation than he was letting on.

Then, there was Lynnlee. He was terrified of losing her now that she no longer had to rely on his protection. Back in the safe walls of Wayne Manor and her Uncle's presence, he fully expected her to brush off their intimate experience in the warehouse and he prepared himself for such a response. However, after he had briefly looked in on Amy at the hospital and was driven back to the Manor by an elder African American man whose name he never found out, he had fallen into bed only to be startled awake by Lynnlee coming into his room. She didn't say anything but just crawled under the covers and curled up next to him.

She came every night after that, too, always sneaking back to her own room before dawn came. Some nights she talked, reminiscing about Rachel and her encounters with the woman and some nights she remained quiet. He spoke of his guilt and worry over Amy and sometimes words weren't needed, tears sufficed. And some nights, they made love, falling asleep entwined and feeling as if the world hadn't gone mad.

They had fallen into this routine for almost four weeks now. Thanksgiving had passed silently, no one wanting to acknowledge a holiday with a family friend not showing up for dinner. Christmas was fast approaching, snow had already dusted the ground and Jonathan was afraid Amy was going to miss her favorite holiday. Not that she would be in physical shape to actually enjoy any festivities, but at least she would be awake. He could apologize for putting her in the state she was currently in and whether she accepted his request for forgiveness or unleash her wrath on him, he would bear it as his punishment.

Meanwhile, he would lay in the dark, staring at the shadowed ceiling and listen for the door to creak slight on it's hinges to announce Lynnlee's arrival for the night.

* * *

The first thing that Amy noticed was the burning in her chest. The second was all the beeping and hissing noises that surrounded her. She opened her eyes and quickly wished she hadn't. Sunlight filled the room that was most definitely not in a hospital, though the IV drips, oxygen machine and heart monitors spoke otherwise. It took her mind a few seconds to place her surroundings as being back at Wayne Manor. Then, she started choking. Her hands started clawing at the tube that was shoved down her throat until someone grabbed her wrists in one hand and yanked the tube out with the other. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her rapid heartbeat and she felt her wrists being released.

"And look who has finally decided to grace us with her conscious presence."

Amy turned to see Alfred, now sitting by her bedside. She couldn't help but smile at the welcome sight of the older man. "Hey."

"It's a good thing you're awake," he said gravely. "Your brother is driving us all mad."

"He'll do that." Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. "What's wrong with him?"

"First, we couldn't pry him away from you when we brought you home from Gotham General. Now, Lynnlee has the flu and he's become her around the clock nurse."

"So I'm left with you."

"Unfortunately."

She sank back down into the plush pillows. "Not unfortunately."

"I'm flattered," he quipped. "Here, you need this." He held out an oxygen mask, and slipped it over her head. He saw the questioning in her eyes and responded. "Your lungs were severely burned by the drug. They're healing, albeit slowly. You'll be on oxygen for a while but with some hard work and determination, you'll be back to your active self once again."

Amy tried to breath normally and ignore the almost claustrophobic feeling the mask was giving her. After a few minutes, she fell into a comfortable rhythm. "Bruce?"

Alfred's face fell and a momentary panic rose in her damaged chest. The older man cleared his throat. "Master Bruce is…coping with some sudden and unsettling developments. He's stopped in a few times to check on you. You'll see him soon."

"Is he alright?" She didn't like how the oxygen mask was making her voice sound. It reminded her too much of what Jon sounded like from behind his scarecrow mask.

"Like all of us," Alfred answered, "he will recover eventually."

The door squeaked open and Amy saw her brother peering into the room. She tried to smile but realized he wouldn't see it because of the mask. She thought about taking it off when what passed for color in his face completely left, leaving him a sickly white. He only reacted that way when he was frightened. It was an odd response and she wondered what was wrong. Alfred saw her diverted attention and rose from the chair.

"If you want or need anything," he pointed to the phone by the bed, "just pick it up and hit the pound button."

"Thank you, Alfred," she rasped and watched him leave. Jon still hovered by the door before squaring his shoulders and coming over to the chair, folding his lanky self into the seat. She tried smiling at him again but he didn't seem to notice. Instead, she held out her hand and after staring at it for a few bleeps on the heart monitor, he took it with a heavy sigh. Amy pulled the mask off with her free hand. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Apparently that wasn't the right thing to say as she watched his eyes close and tears leak out beneath his lashes. She was the crier, she always had been. When Jon cried, there something catastrophic going on inside of him. It shook her to the core to see her brother cry and she struggled to sit up, trying to get to him to give him some comfort for whatever tragedy had struck while she had been out. He was oblivious to her struggles and her lungs were burning with just the minor effort to sit up straight. She tugged on his hand and finally got his attention.

"What's wrong?"

His grief quickly turned to confusion. "What do you mean 'what's wrong?'"

She shrugged. "Why are you so upset? Did someone die?"

Confusion turned to incredulity. "You almost did!"

"But I didn't. I'm here. I'm alright, Jon. It's okay."

"No, it's not." He shook his head and then pushed his glasses back up his nose. "Your lungs-"

"Will heal."

He huffed impatiently. "Not completely."

"They'll heal enough for me live a normal life. Tell me you're not blaming yourself for this."

He didn't answer and looked sheepishly down at the floor. Amy wished she had something to hit him with, to knock some sense into him. Instead, she put as much strength into the squeeze of his hand as she could, hoping that would assure him she still had some strength left in her.

"Now, I want an update on what I've missed. How long have I been out?"

He cleared his throat. "Five weeks."

That was much longer than she expected. She pulled the oxygen mask back over her mouth and motioned for him continue with the five week update. She tried to listen to him, make sense of everything that he was telling her. But by the time he had reached week two, she was drifting asleep and into dreams with dangerous clowns, two faced men and a giant bat that fought them both.

* * *

Lynnlee was on her way to Jon's room when she decided to take a detour to Amy's room. She had poked her head in earlier in the evening to find Amy sound asleep and hoped to find her awake later on that night. She had spent most the night throwing up her dinner and trying to hide it from everyone. She didn't need any extra attention or worry on her right now. Everyone seemed to be dealing with their own personal demons, she didn't wanted to add hers to the pot. However, she was hoping that Amy might be able to help her.

When she opened the door, she was relieved to see the light over the bed on and Amy scanning the many newspapers that they saved for her. Lynnlee saw the blue Crane eyes shift their focus from the black and white print to her. She gave Amy a small smile as she approached the bed. Amy pulled the oxygen mask down so it dangled around her neck.

"I hope I'm not intruding," Lynnlee said.

Amy shook her head. "Not at all. It's good to see you. Your uncle said you have the flu."

She made a noncommittal sound and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Ready for the Boston Marathon."

Lynnlee leaned back in the chair. "It's so good to see you awake and hear your voice. Jon was just beside himself with worry."

"That happens sometimes with a split personality."

Lynnlee tried to figure out how worry and split personalities go together when Amy laughed tiredly.

"I'm sorry. It was a joke…beside himself…split personality. Never mind. Must be the drugs." Amy sighed. "Jon was always a worrier. He should be better tomorrow. I tried to assure him I'm was fine and not mad at him. Keep me updated on him, okay?"

Lynnlee nodded. "I can do that."

"Has Scarecrow been around much?"

"Not since the Batman rescued us at the warehouse. He's been good natured, gentle Jon. Aside from the worry and guilt, that is."

"No, that's Jon."

Lynnlee fell silent. Amy was right, as she should be, which was what brought Lynnlee into the room in the first place. Amy would know how to best approach the situation that she found herself in at the moment. "Amy, I don't know if you're feeling up to dispensing advice right now, but I have an issue."

Amy sat up straighter. "Shoot. I've been sleeping for weeks, I have all the energy in the world."

Lynnlee fiddled with the hem of her shirt, trying get up enough courage to admit the truth. "You have to keep this between us until I know for certain."

Amy nodded slowly, her clear blue eyes already holding a hint of understanding. "Go on."

Lynnlee squeezed her eyes shut and blurted out her secret. "I think I'm pregnant."

The grandfather clock struck an early morning hour and Lynnlee opened her eyes to see Amy's reaction. The other woman seemed slightly shocked but grinning widely. "I think that's wonderful."

"How is Jon going to take the news though?"

"Oh, he'll be thrilled. Despite his past actions, he's got quite a soft spot for children. I would wait though, until you know for certain before springing it on him."

"I go tomorrow for a blood test."

Amy nodded. "Wonderful."

Lynnlee returned Amy's pleased smile, trying to convince herself that this really was good news instead of the destroying blow of all that had brought her happiness in the last few months.


	16. The Space Between

**Author's Note: **This is it folks...last chapter!

**Chapter Sixteen: The Space Between**

He knew he was shying away from Amy which was why he made sure she was asleep whenever he looked in on her. Alfred had already spoken his concerns, saying that Amy wanted to see him, needed to see him. But no, Bruce found it easier to hide behind Batman's duties and his grief over Rachel's loss. So as was his custom now, he opened the door to Amy's room around two o'clock in the morning and planned to sit there for an hour or so before getting some sleep himself.

"Hey."

He jumped at the sound of her voice, startled she was awake. Not the mention the oxygen mask gave her the same rasp her brother had behind the scarecrow mask. "You're up."

Her blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "You don't sound happy about that."

He fell into the chair next to her bed. "No, actually, uh-"

"It's okay. I figured your visits were always planned around my sleeping so you didn't have to talk. I'll let you off the hook if you want to go to bed." Her eyes crinkled at the corners. "You showed up when I was awake, requirement met."

He couldn't help but give her a weary smile. "How are you feeling?"

Her eyes seemed to dim slightly, like she was trying to convince herself she was fine but eventually gave up. "Lousy." She laughed shortly, having it come out as a buzzed static. "You're the first person that I've been that honest with. Alfred said you're not doing too well either."

Bruce didn't say anything. In truth, the first few days he was dealing with Rachel's death, he found he couldn't stand the sight of Amy, that he actually hated her for living. But time started the healing process once more and his compassion towards the sane Crane sibling returned. "I'm alright."

Amy held out her arm towards him, the one that had an IV connected to it with a painkiller to help with her breathing. "What some IV?"

"No, I'm good." It got a laugh out of him and he realized it had been a long time since he had done that. It felt good.

"Sorry," Amy said. "Jon said I've been interesting on pain killers. Apparently I've been asking interesting questions."

"Alfred's told me a couple of them." He grinned. "His particular favorite was when you asked him if the word 'peaches' tasted fuzzy to him too."

Amy's eyes rolled to the ceiling. "Jon didn't tell me about that one. He told me about the day when I was associating words with colors. Apparently, family is blue and Batman is red."

"Red? Not black?"

Amy raised her hands in an "I don't know" gesture and they both laughed. It really had been way too long since he had genuinely laughed and the dark mood that surrounded him started to lift. He had realized that it was all about to go downhill from there, he would have kept laughing with her.

* * *

Lynnlee knew it was unfair and wrong but she did it anyway. She came in the back of Wayne Manor, packed her clothes, took her violin and left again. She didn't trust herself to say good bye to anyone, most of all Jon. He was too aware, almost super aware when it came to her and she didn't want him to know that she was pregnant. She knew he would insist on taking care of her properly, marriage, home, everything. But she couldn't get that image of the far away look in his eyes whenever that alter ego, Scarecrow, showed up. What would happen to her and their child when Scarecrow decided to make an appearance?

Guilt pulled at her from every side. He had never treated her harshly or became physically rough with her, but she had seen news footage, heard stories of what he had been like under the rule of that personality. So many accounts from those who worked at Arkham that had given interviews after the gassing of the Narrows had claimed that Dr. Crane would have been the last person they would have thought would be responsible. He was good at hiding that terrible streak that ran through him. She thought she could be the one to save him from that but now with an innocent, defenseless child entering the picture, she just couldn't risk it.

She didn't want to put Amy in a difficult spot either. Amy would most likely put two and two together but Lynnlee hoped that she would keep this to herself. She had a feeling that if Jon did find out, he wouldn't hesitate to look for her. The fear of who would find her, Scarecrow or Jon, plagued her mind and would most likely have her spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.

She hocked her violin, getting enough money to get into Canada and find a small apartment. She would have to call her parents and soon. Uncle Al might have already alerted them to her disappearance and she didn't want to cause any of them unnecessary worry. She briefly wondered if her uncle would tell her parents about Jon and the possible reason for her leaving. Well, that was a bridge she would cross when she had to. Right now, she needed to concentrate on crossing the border and disappearing.

* * *

Any hope that Amy had of having her brother's return to her was lost completely when Lynnlee left. The first night, all he did was pace. The second, he sat stoned faced at the window. The third, he retreated completely. Amy was still bed bound with oxygen mask and IV painkillers and fluids but she doubted he would talk to her. It was sadly for the best as he would want an explanation and even though Lynnlee never confirmed her pregnancy with Amy, she was certain that was behind the flight. It didn't come as complete shock when Alfred came into her room on the six day, saying that Jon was gone too.

Amy begged Bruce to go look for him, drag him back to Arkham if necessary but Batman had other problems on his hands at the moment. The police were still hunting him for the death of their fellow officers and Harvey Dent but he did promise to look for Jon when he could. The day the IVs were unhooked and the oxygen mask removed, Bruce came into the room and turned the TV on for her. Jonathan Crane had been found bound and propped up against the front gate of Arkham.

She kept a calendar that no one knew about, even Bruce. She counted down nine months, trying to silently follow Lynnlee's pregnancy. On the possible due date of her niece or nephew, Amy left Wayne Manor and went back to California. It had to be the most difficult thing she ever had done. Not only was she leaving friends and yes, a man she had come to love, but she was also admitting defeat when it came to her brother.

"Are you sure about this?" Bruce had asked her over the breakfast table that morning. She didn't answer so he continued. "Just stay for a few months more, see what comes of it."

It was such a tempting offer and she needed to remind herself why she was leaving. "They say there's a thin line between insanity and genius. I used to think that my brother resided in that space between, right on the line, where he had surpassed genius but never reached insanity." She shook her head. "But that wasn't true."

"I don't think anyone can survive on that line. You're either on one side or the other."

"You do it," she stated simple. "That is where Batman exists. That is where he lives, breathes and fights. That is why he is and always will be Gotham's hero. Because he can exist in that space between."

And those had been the final words spoken between them before Amy climbed into the back of the town car that took her to the airport. Alfred didn't say anything but he had made his thoughts known the day before. He didn't want her to leave either. She had replaced the void Lynnlee had left with her abrupt departure. Before she walked into the airport, she handed him a card with all her contact information on it and then she was gone.

When she reached California, she tried to shake the dust of Gotham from her feet but she couldn't. Too much had happened, things that left scars and happy memories. She had lost her brother to his own notions but she had gained friends. Bruce emailed her at least every other day and called once week. Alfred called as well, mostly to see if she had heard anything from Lynnlee, which she hadn't.

Her best friend Lina seemed to take special interest in her once she returned. Lina was the only one that Amy told the whole story to of what happened in Gotham. Well, not the whole story, she kept Bruce's identity as Batman to herself. It felt relieving having someone else bear the burden of her brother's insanity and a lost niece or nephew that she would never know.

It took a while, but Amy's life pre-Gotham came slowly back. The only disturbances to it were the random news announcements that Jon had broken out of Arkham, would cause chaos for a while before ending up back in the institution again. She had to give Jon props for finding so many ways out of the gothic fortress and Bruce credit for his never ending patience with putting Jon right back in there once more. But as time wore time, the shock of it all wore off and it was just another flashy media story that Amy turned off before going to spend time with whatever child the court had appointed her to assess for the day.

_

* * *

_

Three Years Later…

Bruce's cell phone rang, startling him awake. He was sitting in the back of the town car, on his way home from Wayne Enterprises and he had fallen asleep, which was no surprise. He pulled out the incessantly ringing phone and pressed the call button.

"Bruce."

"Hey, Bruce. It's Amy."

"Amy," he grinned widely despite the wispy, breathless sound to her voice. Her lungs never recovered fully from the drug inhalation. "I didn't think you would call until this weekend?"

"Something's come up." She sounded odd, like she had been crying. "I need to see you and Alfred."

"Sure. When would you like to come?"

"I'm already in Gotham, actually. Whenever you have a chance."

Warning bells went off in his mind. "Alfred and I are on our way home right now. You can come straight there then."

"Alright. I'll see you soon then."

"Okay." Bruce hit the end button and frowned at the phone.

"Problem, Master Bruce?"

"I don't know. She didn't say."

They rode in silence the rest of the way and when Wayne Manor came into view, there was a car parked near the front door already. Alfred parked next to the unknown vehicle and they got out of the car. Amy was fiddling with something but when she saw them, she stumbled out of the car and Bruce felt like someone had bum rushed him. Amy's thick black hair was cut almost down to a buzz cut, dark circles ringed her blue eyes and she looked like she hadn't eaten for months. But that wasn't the worst of it…she wasn't smiling. In fact, large tears were rolling down her emaciated face.

"What's happened?" Bruce asked.

Amy worried her bottom lip before looking at Alfred. "I'm sorry."

"Lynnlee?" Alfred responded shortly and Amy slowly nodded.

"She, uh," Amy coughed to get her voice back and Bruce picked up an audible wheeze when she did so. "She had me listed as next of kin. She, uh, died in a car accident four months ago."

Bruce watched Alfred's face tense, fighting for control. "I see."

"There's something else," Amy said, reaching into the back seat of her car. When she straightened up again, she had a child, about three years old, in her arms and suddenly he knew why Lynnlee left the way she did. The child was unmistakably Crane's with his messy black hair and startling blue eyes. "I would like you to met Richard Grayson."

Bruce felt some of his shock lift when the three year old reached out to Alfred and eagerly settled into the older man's arms. Then, as if sensing the heavy mood, he shoved a toy fire engine in Alfred's face, proudly exclaiming what it was and eliciting a chuckle out of the butler as well as Bruce and Amy.

Bruce offered her a place to stay and she accepted it without hesitation. Alfred excused himself to get dinner started and walked off with Richard in his arms. Bruce helped Amy carry in her duffle bag and all the baby paraphernalia that apparently came with traveling with a three year old. They ate a relatively quiet dinner in the kitchen and when Alfred left to put the baby to sleep did Bruce start hammering Amy with questions.

"You knew about the baby, didn't you?"

Amy looked so tired, worn out beyond all human limitation. "I knew she thought she was pregnant. The day she left she was to find out for certain. I never heard from her again. Just about a month ago I received a call from a foster home in Montreal. Lynnlee listed me as next of kin because I was the only one who knew she may have been pregnant."

"Does your brother know?"

Amy shook her head. "No. And I don't intend to tell him. What's he up to now?"

Bruce dropped his napkin onto the table. "Last I heard, he broke out of Arkham with the Joker."

Amy sank back against her chair and shook her head.

"You went above and beyond the call of duty trying to reach him."

"It wasn't enough, Bruce."

"It never will be. He made his own decisions. Now, what's going on with you? You look terrible."

Amy sat up a little straighter. "I need you to take care of Richard. I can't do it."

"Why not?"

"I can't offer him the resources you can, Bruce. You have the money and connections to properly educate him and give him opportunities that Jon and I never had. Richard's brilliant. He has Jon's mind but Lynnlee's personality. He's a great kid and I wish I could take care of him."

"But?"

Amy sighed tiredly. "I have stage four lung cancer from the drug damage. I have weeks, if that."

An unfamiliar rise of anger filled his chest. "Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"What for? So you could pour more money into treatment for me only to have it fail in the end? No, I'm done fighting now."

"So that's it? You drop off your nephew to your millionaire friend and drop dead?"

Finally, a spark lit up in her dull eyes. "Looks that way. What do you want me to do, Bruce? If I take Richard and die, the poor kid is going to be kicked around from foster home to foster home. Just like Jon and I were. I refuse to put him through that. But I'm too tired to fight anymore. I've spent my entire life fighting. Fighting to stay alive when murderers broke into my home when I was a child, fighting to keep my head above water when each foster home we went to was worse than the one before it. I've woken up staring down the barrel of a shot gun, taken care of children who were just a couple years younger than myself at the time and fought off just about every foster father that wanted something more from me. I'm tired, Bruce. I'm ready."

He didn't want to admit it but he did agree with her. She had lived more in her life than most live in eighty years. Who was he to force medical treatment on her to keep her alive just because he didn't want to say good bye. "Fine," he relented. "I'll take Richard."

"Good." She nodded once and stood up. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go to bed now."

"Same room as before, if that's alright."

"Thank you," she responded, and quickly leaned down, giving him a peck on a cheek before she was gone.

* * *

"Master Bruce?"

Bruce tried to bury his head under the pillow. "Is it three already, Alfred?"

"No sir, I'm afraid not."

Bruce pulled himself out from underneath the covers and found the sun hadn't even risen yet. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty in the morning." Alfred paused. "I'm afraid it's Amy, sir."

Bruce sat up in the bed and swung his legs over the side. He felt tears stinging the back of his eyes. "Where is she?"

"In her bedroom."

Call it morbid curiosity or closure, Bruce found himself make his way down the hall and through the closed door. Amy was still in the bed, looking much as she had when she was recovering from the lung damage those years ago. Bruce sat down on the side of the bed, and picked up her hand, closing the ice cold fingers between his warm palms. He realized too late, once again, that he had loved her. Amy Crane, another casualty of Gotham's criminal underground.

"Did Aunt Amy go bye-bye?"

Bruce looked down to see Richard standing there, looking up at him with wide blue eyes…Jonathan's eyes. No, Amy's eyes. Bruce reached down and picked up the child, settling him on his leg.

"Yeah, Aunt Amy went away." He realized what it must have taken her, the self will and determination, to be able to make the trip from Montreal to Gotham with a three year old in tow. "She loved you very much, Richard."

He was still holding Richard when the coroner's office came and wrapped Amy's body up in the white sheet. As the gurney passed through the entrance way and out the door, Richard waved at it.

"Bye-bye, Aunt Amy."

Bruce found himself doing the same thing. "Bye, Amy."

* * *

It was completely by accident that he found out she had died. Of all people, it was the Joker, that not so insane clown of a character, that made the callous announcement.

"So sorry to hear about your sis, Doc."

He hadn't even realized she had been sick but wasn't surprised when he found out it was lung cancer. He ultimately had killed his sister. He drove Lynnlee away to god knows where and now Amy was gone permanently. He swiped newspapers, searching for her obituary, and found out when the funeral was. Thanks once again to Bruce Wayne, Amy's funeral was well done though small. He didn't dare step into the church for the service. With everything that he had done in his life he was certain God would strike him dead as soon as he passed over the threshold. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad fate.

He watched the burial from behind a tree. She was buried next to their mother, which was appropriate. He saw Wayne standing next to the gaping hole with Amy's best friend from California, Lina, actually Selina Kyle was her real name, next to him. But the shocking thing was seeing the child in Bruce's arms. That was the thing that hurt the most. The child was the only one who seemed to take notice of Jonathan's presence. He couldn't have been more than three years old. He knew Amy had loved Bruce but he hadn't known it had gone that far. And yet, there was Wayne holding the proof…Jonathan's own blue eyed nephew that looked so much like Amy it hurt to look at him.

"I hate funerals."

Jonathan turned bleary eyes to the man next to him. Joker had removed all the makeup from his face and the green dye had been washed from his light brown hair. The scars were still there on his face though. "I hate them too."

"That your kid?"

Jonathan shook his head. "No. My sister's."

"Hm. Well, this is really bringing me down. Come on, doc," Joker grabbed a hold of him and tugged him away from the funeral. "Let's go rob a bank, would that make you feel better? I'll even let you gas the guards, how's that?" The Joker let out a high pitched giggle. "You'll feel better after you have a few people screaming."

Jonathan yanked the burlap sack out of his suit pocket. It was his only friend now. Without Amy, he was no longer Jonathan Crane. He was only Scarecrow. He slipped the rough material over head and settled the re-breather over his mouth and nose.

_I told you, you would be back, Jonny. Welcome back. _

* * *

Well, it's been a fun and wild ride! I just want to say a huge thank you to all of my readers and reviewers! You guys are the reason this is finished! Thank you for your support, encouragement and time! *internet hugs all around*


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